A trip to Remnant
by Exsanguinator Dominus Nox
Summary: Jason Richards, a normal if overthinking student, finds himself cast into the world of a show he knows all too well. With knowledge of the future that he cannot rely on, and close friends he does not necessarily know, what will happen is anyones guess in this world of bloody evolution. Will possibly get a little graphic in future.
1. New Beginnings

I confess, I always harboured a hatred for cliche story tropes.

Sure, some are pretty good, sometimes. But when writing a story, it's way too easy to slip into writing some boring unrealistic plot of being thrust into some hard new world, where despite this, you are more powerful somehow then everything, but don't yet know it. The protagonist then goes off and fights a dragon or something.

It's bad when explained with good fluff. When the story just states it with no reason why, it's insulting to read.

Which is why I found myself in some fairly major internal conflict, when I woke up with a splitting headache, in a forest that was all too familiar.

Forever fall.

No wait. Forever fall was the other one.

This was the Emerald forest.

Testing ground for new prospective initiates at the illustrious Beacon academy.

A distant but thunderous explosion sounded, and I snapped my head back as fast moving birds flew overhead, blurs of speed in the relative tranquil.

No, not birds. Those were people.

Huntsmen! Or at least prospective ones. This was initiation!

Jubilation at being in one of my favourite universes warred heavily with irritation. A bitter irritation that my proverbial story, because that was what it was looking like, was so cliched. It was then quashed by concern. I was away from home, in an incredibly dangerous location, with monsters that could taste your rage and fear. I quickly clamped down on my emotions, simply refusing to clutter my thoughts with them until I was safe, then worked to slow my heartbeat and control my body.

It took a minute and a half before I felt satisfied, and decided to move, in case I had attracted anything unsavoury.

Thoughts whirred through my head. Velocity, time, direction,

Plan?

Ozpin.

He's the only one likely to believe me. Failing that, I could be of much use to him. If this really was Remnant, and this really was when I think it is, then I can literally tell the future.

Location? Top of cliff face, reading scroll, monitoring prospective students.

Get to Ozpin. Slow heartbeat first, getting a bit too excited.

I looked around. where was the cliff face? I felt I recognised the particular area of the forest. No idea why, but it was all I had. So I set off.

No, no that's a stupid idea. Just as likely to run into a Grimm then find the cliff. Climb a tree. Scout around.

I looked around. Most seemed too smooth to climb, bar one, that had a few handholds. Enough to get up to the branches.

"Hello?"

Wait what?

I reeled, turned to see a girl. About my rough age and height seemingly, she was wearing some kind of half plate half cloth armour, carrying a rifle with a long blade for a sight.

Better idea.

"Soo... I guess we're partners now?"

Wha?

"Oh, no sorry, I'm not involved in the initiation."

"Huh? Then what brings you out here, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, well it's kinda...complicated sorry, and I really shouldn't keep you. But if you could possibly point me in the general direction of professor Ozpin while you're here?"

"Oh, sure." She pointed back, her face scrunched up in thought. "He's about, say, three kilometers that way."

"Excellent, sorry to bother you." I said, relieved.

"Oh really, it's fine. See ya."

And like that, she ran off. Not jogged, but full out sprinted. It took me a moment to remember Aura was a thing.

I set off, careful to travel as close to exactly where she pointed, at a moderate pace. Like striding through a garden.

What was the phrase? Taking a turn was it?

Anyway, if I went much faster, my excitement would begin to bubble up, and risk attracting Grimm. At this moderate pace, if I kept calm, they should be distracted by the others, who were noisier and less controlling of their emotions.

It was three kilometers, over flat ground. At normal pace five kilometers amounts to one hour. I would have reached the cliff after forty minutes or so. I reached it in thirty, and was lucky enough not to encounter anything. I guess following the tracks of a Huntress in training, means you are unlikely to encounter live Grimm. Or live anything dangerous for that matter.

By the time I reached the cliff, I was wondering exactly how I was going to summit it.

I had good memory. I remembered that it was not a small cliff. I could try climbing it. I had done similar things before. But this cliff face was devoid of plant life, and if I fell from there, it would be fatal, rather then just crippling. I wasn't bad at climbing, I had higher then average finger strength and...

It turns out I didn't need to.

When I reached the clearing, I found two people.

A strict looking blond woman, casually flexing a riding crop between her hands, stern eyes behind light glasses.

She was standing behind a man, in an oddly green suit, an unusually young face framed by white hair. He was leaning on a cane, staring intently at me.

Neither were smiling.

It took me all of ten seconds to realise they had likely followed my progress through the forest. They knew.

Despite all my self control, drilled into me by martial arts and firm parenting, I felt a strong surge of fear and dread dart unwanted up my spine. I could feel myself begin to perspire as I returned their gaze.

Left with nothing more to do, I tried to quash my nerves, and took a step forward.

There was about a hundred meters between us. Crossing that distance was the on of the most uncomfortable things I have ever done. As I got closer, I could make out more. A slight glint of concern behind the harsh gaze of who I knew was Professor Goodwitch. A slight twist of curiosity from the eyes of who could only have been Ozpin, headmaster of Beacon.

I stopped, hands clenching, trying to still my nerves. So my voice would not waver.

He beat me too it.

"Well hello." He said, seemingly without a care in the world, like he had just met an old friend on the street.

Part of my brain noted the clever psychological reasoning behind that. Another part tried to predict what would happen from here, and work on a conversation plan.

My mouth went "Hi."

Stupid. Awkward. Clumsy.

He chuckled, lightly, and I could feel myself relaxing, the tension melting away.

"My name is Ozpin. I'm the Headmaster of Beacon academy, although I'm willing to bet you likely knew that." A slight tug of a smile, harmless "But I must confess, I do not know who your name. Might I ask it of you?"

Name.

"Oh, my name's Jason Richards. Pleasure to meet you." I say, shaking his proffered hand.

A firm grip, eye contact, good. I can recover this.

"And yes, I do know you, however not the way you would think I do."

He grinned, an honest expression that reached his eyes this time.

"I had a sneaking suspicion you were going to say that."

He turned, leaning on his cane.

"Glynda, could you supervise the new students? I'd like to take our new friend here off for a chat."  
"Of course." she said, curt, despite her confusion. I'd guess Ozpin usually oversaw the new students personally.

"Excellent, thank you." He said, waving me towards an arriving Bullhead? Bulkhead? I couldn't remember.

"I'm sure you have quite the story to tell me, Jason."

It took about two hours and countless cups of tea before I managed to fully explain what I knew of how I got here, and then how I knew it.

He took his universe being an Anime series shockingly well. To be fair, we did debate the nature of the relationship between series and universe thoroughly. It was long and lengthy work, and I was barely able to keep up with him, which I'll admit is rare for me, but we managed to settle that this Remnant is both the same as the one from the series, by nature of being the same, and different, by nature of being, well, a universe, moreover, I had no way of confirming if such was identical to the series I knew. Would it be completely identical, or would it have some differences that I could not see. It seems basic, but we established that, whilst things were not constrained to the series plot, that is likely what is going to occur, if things remain the same. That had bought us onto our next point. I knew what would happen to Vale, I knew how to stop it, preempt it. But if we did, then we lose the advantage of certainty. A truly vexing issue, one that we put down to later discussion.

Then he put down his cup.

"So, Jason. In this web of fate we weave, what strand to you intend to straddle?"

I knew this would come up. Likely he knew I knew this would come up. Likely also, that he could guess what my answer was going to be.

"If possible, I'd like to enter into beacon as a prospective Huntsman."

His eyes narrowed.

"I expected as much. But remember, a Huntsman's lot is a perilous job. Watching the exploits of two of our most promising teams behind a screen may not accurately reflect this enough. Most Huntsmen do not end peacefully."

He was serious, very serious. Because of this, I ran through my thoughts again to confirm my choice, out of respect.

"Yes. I did spend a fair amount of my childhood learning martial arts. Four in total in fact, albiet only two very well. Come to think about it, I also learnt to shoot, and the basics of sword use."

He nodded, following.

"I am definitely rusty, but with some extra weight and technique training, I should be a good enough quality to earn Huntsman rank."

"...Very well." he said after a pause "New entries after the initiation exam are rare, but they do happen. You will duel with a student of that I decide is of sufficient skill. Should I deem you fit enough, both mentally and physically, you shall be entered into Beacon as a student."

I nodded in understanding. I had expected exactly this, but I was nervous. I would have to fight someone. A good someone, so no Jaune or even Cardin.

"Now." Ozpin said, rising. "I believe I have a ceremony to attend to, probably should not forget it." He slid me a scroll.

"I'm guessing you don't have one of these then. This should guide you to the guest wing. Just take any room you want, I'll send up dinner to you."

"Cool, thanks professor." I said, following him to the elevator. He pressed two buttons, one for each floor.

"I'd advise getting some rest, I'll meet you at your room tomorrow at ten. From there, I'll take you to the armoury, where you can choose a temporary weapon to use in your duel, which will be at noon. Any questions?"

"None." I said, the doors opening.

"This is you."

I step out, and the doors close behind me.

Left alone, I was free to wander unhurriedly to the guest wing. I picked the closest one, and checked inside. The room was sparse. A bed, a small kitchen, bathroom, and a TV. Just like home. I moved over to the window, and looked out over Beacon.  
No, I corrected myself. No it wasn't home. It was Beacon. Not home.

I felt a pang of worry. I would be missed likely. Was "I" gone forever from that universe? What would it do too my parents? My friends? Those who looked to me for help? I had to stop myself. Whatever had happened, it had happened. And try as I might, I could not change it. I just had to hope that things turned out okay.

I sat on the bed, and started browsing through the interweb on my scroll. I had enjoyed tabletop and role-playing games, and I wanted to see how Remnant compares.

I found a 40K substitute. The Chaos Daemons were Grimm essentially. I found a varied amount of other games of differing styles.

I spent the evening browsing through the assorted cultures of Remnant. Dinner came and went, whilst I researched.

The last thing I did before I turned the lights off, was to reset my watch, and set an alarm on my scroll, to wake me up at 7. I wanted to keep good habits, although I suspected that I would end up getting up earlier, which did not excite me, a night person by nature.

I collapsed onto the bed, still in my day clothes. And was out like a light.


	2. A call to Arms

_I stood, watching, the grains of wheast swaying in the gentle breeze._

 _Through the dust laden air I could make out the monster._

 _It was enormous, incomprehensibly vast, it swatted at buildings like they were toys._

 _..._

 _The grasses whipped past as I ran, sprinting as fast as I could towards it._

 _My destination was under the thing. I had to get there._

 _I couldn't be seen._

 _..._

 _The ground was open._

 _..._

 _I had to get across fast, so it didn't see me._

 _..._

 _If it saw me, it would kill me._

 _..._

 _Each stride covered several meters, as I ran faster and faster._

 _..._

 _Must cross field._

 _..._

 _I was too slow. It had seen me, surely._

 _I ran faster, faster then anything before, then faste..._

 **VuUmMmM**

I jolted awake, sitting up in bed and turning off the alarm in one smooth practised motion, born of years of habit.

An interesting dream, I was almost sad to leave it.

I don't dream like a normal person, with nightmares and sweet dreams. I might say that all my dreams are nightmares, but I never felt fear at them really, not since I was a lot younger.

What was this one about? Running and a giant monster.

That was always the worst part about dreams, forgetting them.

After a few minutes I stood, and with nothing left to do, stretched a little. I needed to be ready by ten. I had three hours on my hands, and nothing to fill that time with.

I took a shower, which was partially spoiled by getting back into my old clothes. Fortunately, an old friend had told me how to use underwear for four days straight, when I had been out tramping in the bush.

At least I was showered.

I checked the time. 7.21. I then proceeded to do what any self respecting guest does.

I raided the minibar.

Several cups of tea, some snack bars and a bag of gourmet chocolate might not have been the best of breakfasts, but it would suffice.

7.35

I didn't trust myself to go walking, in case I got lost and didn't get back in time. I decided to browse what was on morning TV. There was the breakfast news, which I know I should watch, but couldn't bring myself to do so. There was some religious program, which piqued my interest. Five years in a Church choir, in a religious school, one can't help but pick up on some of the philosophy of religion. What it says about its practicers and designers. It wasn't really that interesting sadly. It was based around some mythology or other. It was polytheistic, and it was heavily focused around death, but that was where the interesting features ended. I changed off the channel and found some kind of cartoon channel. It was an interesting experience, with how I already perceived my surroundings, but it was a temporary interest. The plot was cheap, designed for far younger audiences.

I got a movie channel, some drama, that seemed to require context, a reality tv show that was too slapstick for my preferences, and a series of radio channels, all playing music. Some was pretty good, but I have unusual tastes in music, and nothing there interested me too much.

It was 8.41 when I turned the TV off, and moved my chair over to the window. I set an alarm for 9.50 and then I simply waited.

The view was staggering, but my mind was elsewhere.

I was going to have to fight someone. And it was going to be someone good.

Coco? With her machine gun I would get sawn in half in an instant. I didn't think it would be Coco, but what did I know?

Velvet? Now there was a definite possibility. She might fight me with my own weapons. It would be a good test. She would be a faultless choice, I would have to concede.

I knew myself. I wasn't fast on my feet, or strong. But I had fast reflexes, from several sporting ventures I had to.

Nora I could possibly evade. She hits hard, but she hits relatively slow, and honestly doesn't think too much before swinging.

Ren? He seemed like a glass cannon, but he always fought smart, always watching and planning. He was also a master at aura manipulation. He was a worry.

Blake? If I could keep track of her, I should probably be fine. Of course, she was hardly a slouch herself, so eyes open.

Weiss? She moves impressively fast with her glyphs, and has the technique to match. If I fought her, it would be a matter of staggering her, then doing as much damage as possible.

I was most worried about Ruby. A small, incredibly fast moving blur, swinging a gigantic heavy scythe. Even if only used as a club, it could likely break some bones. And that's forgetting about if she decides to shoot it.

Because, like everything, "It's also a gun"

My reaction times were good. I could intercept many things, but she would be too fast to dodge, and too heavy to block. She would be a real threat.

I'd need to make her slip up, get Cresent Rose away, then pin her down and start punching. Gutter fighting, but it would be the only way.

Yang also worried me. Prone to losing control, more powerful the more you hit her, good at all conceivable distances in an arena, I struggled to see how I could beat her.

I decided that whatever would be, would be. It was pointless to conjecture.

I made myself a pot of coffee, extra sugar, and left it to sit. I could use the caffeine kick in my fight.

I then went back to my chair, and closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing, calming my thoughts.

I don't know how much time passed, but I heard my alarm go off, and opened my eyes.

I double checked myself, that I was presentable, then skulled the lukewarm brew. The taste was unfamiliar, unpleasantly acrid, but I swallowed it anyway.

I waited, and eventually, I heard a knocking at my door. Prepared, I opened the door, and beheld a familiar sight of white hair and green suit.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes professor. Best in a while."

"Good, you'll need it. Follow me."

We walked to the Elevators in silence, and Ozpin pressed a button that lead to one of the basement levels.

"So, have you had any thoughts on what kind of a weapon you want to chose?

Hmm?

"No, I was honestly going to look over what was there before choosing a weapon for myself."

"Ahh, a wise choice. There are many options to choose from, and you will be using it to fight with. Still, I'd advise not choosing the wrong one."

"I'd have assumed that was the whole point."

"Ha! a laugh, "When you put it like that. It sounds so simple."

I felt gravity increase as the Elevator slowed, then stopped with a gentle chime, the doors opening.

"But I find reality is very rarely so simple Mr Richards."

The room was enormous, a fifty by fifty metre room, filled with weapons racks, each jammed with weapons, no two quite the same.

There must have been hundreds, if not thousands of weapons in this one room. Choosing the best one for me would be a nightmare.

The smug bastard.

He leaned back against the door, and ushered me into the room. I chose an isle and paced slowly down it's length, weighing up each weapon I saw in my head with myself and the abilities I thought I'd have. I was moderately tall, exactly six foot one from memory, and I had long limbs, but compared to a trained huntsman or huntress, I was not very strong. I had leverage, but no strength. I would need to keep them at range.

I barely looked at the paired daggers in their multitude.

I was fast, agile. Not on my feat unless I was sprinting, which I doubt I would be doing in a duel without breaking my ankles. But I could move short distances fast, and my reaction times were actually pretty good. In terms of shooting or blade work, I reckon I knew enough for a fight. Try to avoid parrying with the edge, try to avoid spraying everywhere.

And then I saw it, and I stopped in my tracks.

It was a Zweihandler, a long bladed sword, that had had the hilt extended double. It was double bladed, and had a powerful looking energy weapon slung between both blades. It fit every requirement, keeps the foe at a distance, powerful, good leverage, a potent ranged weapon. I moved to pick it up. It was beautiful, it was deadly, it was perfect.

And it would get me killed.

I paused. No matter how much I loved the idea of fighting with such a weapon, there was just no feasible way I could. I was not trained nearly enough to use such a heavy weapon. I could not block, I could not swing fast or jab.I would be torn to pieces within ten seconds.

I turned from the perfect weapon and approached another.

It was a tower shield, an advanced one. maybe five foot in height, four in width, it was a heavy duty beast. Looking over it, it seemed to have a series of apertures on both the front and the back, and a plexiglass view screen for vision. The handle seemed to have two buttons. One under the trigger finger, one under the thumb. I confess, I liked the ugly black thing. It had a weapon slot on the right, where a paired blade/machine pistol sat. About the length of a sabre, it consisted of a short stocky rifle, the grip moved to the back of the weapon, and a gladius length blade attached to the front.  
It wasn't a pretty thing, it was blocky and obnoxious, much of the paint was worn away from the edges, and a faint patina of rust had settled on some areas, but it was perfect for my needs. I pulled it of the rack, and it came away surprisingly easily, for such a large object. It seemed almost unnaturally light, and had the momentum of a much heavier object. I managed to get it under control enough to slot my arm into it, and take the litteral gun sword in my right hand. I tried jimmying the blade around in it's notch, then swinging it. It was oddly well weighted, but heavier then I had expected for a blade of such size.

I jogged back to Ozpin, who nodded approvingly at my choice, then stepped back into the Elevator. I walk over, and he presses the button for the ground level as I enter.

"Now, I have some stuff to do, so I'll have to leave you here. Can you make your way to the Arena yourself? There are some nearby training rooms so you can get used to using your new weapons."

A test. I had wondered how he was sparing so much time on me.

"Sure thing professor, I'll be fine."

He nods, and the elevator slows to a crawl, the shield jerking on my arm as it does.

I exit, and hear the doors wisp shut behind me. I stow the sword in its notch and check my scroll for the map.

Down the right passage, third passage on the right.

There was practically no one in the corridors. Were classes on?

Probably, it was 11.20 or so.

Would the training rooms be in use? I hoped not, I didn't want anyone, particularly not people I might have to get to know watch my fumble around like some meathead.

Turn left here.

Would I be able to get in? Was I in the system?

Too late to wonder, I was here.

There were five rooms in this wing. The first four were in use. The last one was smaller and deserted, so I tried my luck in there. The door handle was heavy, and opened with a soft click. The door itself was heavy, but was sell weighted, and swung with little resistance. Inside was a circular chamber, sunken a metre into the floor. I closed the door behind me, and walked down into the circle.

 **"State training intention."** an artificial voice blared from the speakers.

I didn't know what to say.

"Ranged."

 **"Ranged combat training selected."**

A countdown blared, and I readied myself, feet braced, gun notched. A reticle appeared in the the optical visor in the shield. I centred it, and waited for the first target to pop up.

I had not expected a full hologram robot to appear and shoot at me. The shots ricochet off the curve of y shield, and I squeezed the trigger, and brought the gun across the target, cutting it in half.

Two more appeared, firing. I braced my shield again, and cut both in half.

The next two I took my time on, bringing my gun to bear, before firing a short burst into the torso of each target. I repeated this for the next several bouts. Then the computer threw a curve ball. One target appeared before me, the other to my right. I threw myself backwards, jarring my shoulder against the ground but avoiding the hail of rounds. I detached my gun and bought it round, finger clamped on the trigger, sawing the target in half. I brought it back around, and fired blindly at the target until I heard it die.

"End training!" I coughed, pushing myself to my feet. My shoulder hurt from lading on it, as did my wrist, from enduring the stress of full auto for so long. I was just glad the gun fired quietly, so my eardrums were fine.

I walked up to a bench, and sat my stuff down.

 **"Would you like to review your performance?"** The same voice said, a hologram projecting itself in front of my head, a play symbol resting in the middle. I tapped it, and watched myself, as I cut down the targets. It looked a lot less impressive then I though it was. I looked clumsy, amateur. While I couldn't say I wasn't, it still looked terrible. It improved a bit, where I began to improve my aim, but then the curve ball happened. That was the most painful thing I saw then, watching myself squirm around on the ground, watching how long it took me to hit the second target.

I tried again, this time, when the computer threw its curve ball, I stepped back, and swung my gun around faster, then swung it back, and fired a burst shot into the second target, that was still firing at my shield. The computer repeated this several times, likely sensing my difficulty. Several with different placings, three where it was on the left instead. I moved the shield to intercept it instead, and fired into the first one, then bought my gun around and buew it apart.

My scroll rang. 11.50.

"End training." I said, light sweat from the exercise in my hair as I climbed back up the steps.

 **"Would you like to revi..."**

It cut out as I opened the door, and walked over to the arena There were people in the corridor now, probably from one of the combat classes. I didn't recognise them. A shame.

I stepped into the arena. It was larger, more open, less comforting then the training room. I was incredibly nervous.

Both Glynda and Ozpin were there, seated above me, watching.

"Ahh, young mister Richards, you're early."

As always.

"I don't like to be late professors."

"A sensible choice. How do you feel? Confident?"

I let myself a smile, partially to calm my nerves.

"I think, all things considered, confidence in my place would be folly."

"Ha! Very good. Don't worry, you aren't expected to win against her, just perform well enough to meet my expectations." He said, sipping from a white mug.

Her, female.

That doesn't actually help very much.

At least it won't be Ren.

 **"ChUnK"**

The sound of the opposite door opening was deafening to my ears, as blood pounded in my skull.

I watched in trepidation, as the light trailed up the figure, illuminating her as she walked into the arena.

Armoured heels, bronze grieves, deep red miniskirt and cape, armoured bodice.

Red and bronze circular shield. Grecian in design, or Macedonian.

Similar designed spear held in the other hand.

An oddly elaborate bronze headpiece over long red hair.

Startlingly pale green eyes.

I hadn't really considered her, but I quickly acknowledged that there was no other choice then the highly trained world champion Gladiator, three times running.

Of course Ozpin would pick Pyrrha Nikos.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Fuck you Ozpin. Fuck you. I'd do the exact same thing in your shoes, but still, fuck you.

Glynda spoke up.

"The match will last for two minutes, or until either combatant has reached less then ten percent of their aura, or is otherwise incapacitated to the point where I deem you unable to continue. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Yes professor."

"Good. Ready yourselves..."

My heart hammered in my chest, threatening to tear loose, to rip out of my chest, pulverising my ribcage.

"...the match begins in, three..."

My muscles were dead, unresponsive, weighing me down. I don't think I could move even if I wanted to.

"Two."

Every joint ached, begging not to be moved as my weight was too heavy to bear. My arm threatened to tear out of it's socket, my ankles were crushed.

"One."

I was going to die.

 **"Begin."**


	3. A Doomed Duel

That single moment stretched into an eternity.

We were both motionless, in that eternal instant at the start of what would likely be the hardest fight I would ever face. And I had fought hard fights before.

That single moment stretched on and on, unwilling to pass on it's turn to the violence that would follow it, but after an aeon between heartbeats, my finger finally, agonisingly slowly, pushed down on the trigger.

The roar was enormous in my ears, but Pyrrha had already bought her shield up, the rounds ricocheting effortlessly off it's polished surface.

I tried to swing my aim down, to take her legs out, but she was already ducking under my fire, rolling forwards.

Then I felt her shield impact mine, throwing my shield wide, pulling my sword away with it.

She was up and sprinting.

I managed to twist my sword out, and swing it around just in time. She blocked it with the haft of her Javelin. I fired, trying to force the blade down, aim it at her head. It didn't budge.

I felt her left leg sweep around and kick me away.

I had to grit my teeth and nearly threw up as I felt my femur flex under the force.

I had forgotten about aura, and nearly lost right then.

One one knee, I bought my shield round between us preemptively, and was rewarded with the sound of rifle shots bouncing off the thick plate.

I tried to bring my gun around, but she was moving too fast, taking up her shield.

I barely saw her throw the shield, and I kicked out with my foot, angling the shield like the armour on a tank and bracing it against the ground.

Akouo bounced off at a steep angle, I knew it would return to her, unless I did something.

I fired again, resting my gun in the shield notch. A wild spray, but a few rounds hit home. Glancing shots, but one doesn't easily ignore bullets.

I didn't have time to check what damage I did, she was leaping into the air, faster then I could pan the gun to follow, outpacing my arc of fire.

She threw Milo, swatting my gun away from her and jarring my wrist worse then the firing. I bought my shield up to intercept her fall.

She had caught Akouo mid air, and was swinging it down with her.

She hit me at an odd angle and knocked me back, letting her reclaim Milo, and she closed in.

I was focused on bringing my shield around to intercept her attacks as she darted around me, thrusting with Milo at any exposed area. I swung aimlessly with my sword, hoping to catch a lucky strike.

I felt her kick it away, hard enough to take it out of my hand, and then darted around to my left, aiming for a strike.

That was when I pressed the two buttons.

With a roar, the thrusters build into the shield activated, slamming it around into Pyrrha, sending her flying, nearly ripping my arm out as it did.

I scrabbled for my weapon as she landed, minimising the impact and bringing her shield round to block.

I bought my shield up again, and set my weapon in the notch.

My shield acted like it was heavier then it should be, and it hit her with all the weight of a moving car, but in all honesty I was a lot worse. The exertions of the fight had taken a lot out of me. My right arm hurt from the jarring up halfway to the shoulder, and my left arm was limp and in agony. Each joint and muscle screamed for me to stop, and I was drenched in sweat.

I knew I should have taken the advantage in those few seconds, but I did not want to risk any breathing space by firing again. My vision was swimming and my heart burned with oxygen depravation.

If I could look as unfazed as she was, she might be cautious in her approach, and give me more time.

I barely even saw her switch Milo to what must have been its rifle form, and fire at my exposed right hand, scratching it and forcing me to drop my sword as I tried to scream with airless lungs at the pain.

My shield dropped, and I barely bought it up again to fend off the initial strike from her charge.

It took a colossal effort to follow her as she darted around, prodding with her spear to the left, then right.

Barely holding my arm up, I attempted to shield bash her away, pushing it with all the force I had left.

Unfazed, she ripped it aside, twisting my abused shoulder in the process, the agony near blinding.

As a last ditch attempt, I stepped forward and swung a right hook to where her head should have been. I felt nothing but air, and then a counter uppercut with milo's pommel to my jaw, and then being thrown to the arena floor, unconscious.

I woke up to feel an armoured knee in my solar plexus, and staring up with hazy eyes at Pyrrha, milo in sword form levelled over my eye.

I couldn't even move my hand to tap out.

I could barely make out the voice of professor Goodwitch, as she stopped the fight and shouted into her scroll.

Was it for medical? I hope so.

Pyrrha, at this, stood, acting as if it had been a mild jog, and extended her hand to me.

I shook my head, despite the growing headache, and lay back, breathing hard, heart pounding. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt, moving hurt, thinking hurt.

So tired, I'll just take a little nap. The ground was so cool to the touch.

 _Pyrrha sat in a chair in the Headmaster's office, thoughts wrapped around her fight. She had been given the rest of the day off to recover. Not for any physical reasons, but psychological._

 _She forced herself to remain calm. Ozpin had told her that her opponent for some reason, was lacking in aura. He had also told her she had permission to hurt him, she would be stopped before she did anything crippling, and medical teams were on standby. But even so, she hadn't liked doing it._

 _Ozpin, to his credit, sympathised._

 _"Tea?" He offered, placing a cup in front of the girl. Pyrrha didn't often drink tea, but this time, she took it, grateful for the soothing warmth it provided._

 _"Mrs Nikos, I'm sorry I asked you to do that. He should make a full recovery under our medical staff in a few hours if it makes you feel better."_

 _She nodded. "It does, thanks."_

 _"You hurt him a lot less then you think, you know. Sure he needed to be carried out, but really the worst you did was scratch him. Most of his injuries were due to his own choices in that fight. Had he not injured himself with his own actions, he wouldn't have needed medical support."_

 _She knew this, "I realise that." She said with a nod._

 _He leaned closer, serious. "Pyrrha, are you sure you're okay."_

 _She nodded again, "I-I guess I'm a little shaken, but I'll live."_

 _"Good." He said, leaning back with a warm smile "But that's not the only reason I called you here. Tell me, what kind of ... impression did he leave on you?"_

 _Pyrrha paused, gathering her thoughts._

 _"He is unfit physically, at least to our standard. He's strong enough, for a person without aura, and was fairly agile. But he isn't used to the exertions of fighting, which was why he injured himself so much. He knows what he's doing, he was accurate enough with his swordwork and shooting to discount being a complete novice to either, and his punch shows clear technique. He isn't near huntsman material, but he could achieve it given time. Although, I'd admit, he did impress me in one regard."_

 _Ozpin raised an eyebrow, "Pray tell."_

 _"He fights smart, very smart. Instantly firing at me, to try and get the jump over me, practically adaptive to whatever I threw at him, playing it safe with range and a tower shield. He knew that he would be going up against someone who would be faster, stronger and generally better by orders of magnitude, and adjusted himself to get the best possible result. He also realised what he was doing would likely hurt him more, but gambled on that, because he knew it was his best chance."_

 _Ozpin nodded, sipping tea from a white mug. "He barely lasted forty seconds."_

 _"Yes, and I've gone through experienced fighters with aura in half that time. For a person without aura to last that long speaks volumes about his combat sense."_

 _The beacon headmaster nodded, and dismissed Pyrrha, thinking to himself. The boy showed definite promise. He was clearly an intelligent student, a rare breed, wise beyond his years one might say. The issue with him was his fitness and ability. Unlike him, most of the other students at Beacon had trained their whole lives to be Huntsmen and Huntress'. Whilst fit and trained for a civilian, he was profoundly lacking in this area for any huntsman._

 _But then again, he had let that Jaune Arc in, despite his forged papers and deplorable skill, because he knew he had potential. But Jaune had aura, an excess of it. He hadn't awoken Jasons aura not to test him, but because it didn't exist. Animals, plants, even some machines had faint auras, but auras none the less. Jason had nothing._

 _Ozpin chuckled to himself. Technically the young mister Richards is a Grimm._

 _But then, he had managed to counter such an issue effectively for a period of time, against a skilled opponent. Whilst it was nothing close to perfect or perminant, considering his ability and experience, it was quite literally the best he could have done. And he could hardly deny that Jason would go on to do great things. He warred with himself, analytical mind trying to prove the value of such a person, that he was simply too valuable an asset to let go, or to have untrained. Fighting against this, his paternal instinct to protect the boy, to spare him from what he simply wasn't fit enough to face. His actions would likely save many lives, if he was to be believed, and it would be wisest to keep him close by. But he knew that, if Jason was going to become a Huntsman, he would die. It wouldn't be pretty, it wouldn't be fast, and it wouldn't be painless._

 _Ozpin leaned back in his chair, and gazed out over Beacon, and sighed in resignation._

 _When it came down to it, he really never had a choice._


	4. A post battle Shopping spree

I... could feel myself regaining cognisance... mind contorting through natural and learned behaviour, as my mind reasserted itself.

I could feel the pain in my retinas, even through my closed eyes, as light washed over my face, from whichwhere I could not identify.

After several minutes of going through my body, and finding nothing wrong at all, I risked opening my eyes a fraction.

I could make out the shapes of what I guessed were figures, people, standing around me. I squinted, keeping my eyes open a fraction, letting them adjust, despite the pain it bought.

I could smell antiseptic, cleaner products, and all the other smells unique to places of medical practice. I guessed I was in the medical ward. Good. I went through my body, tensing muscles and focusing on joints. There was nothing wrong at all. It was like I had never fought that fight against Pyrrha. In fact, I felt better then before, and I guessed several other minor ailments had been mended as well.

"Jason."

The voice was quiet, kind, and I cracked my eyes open, and answered.

"Yes?"

New hands, not rude, but experianced and rushed, tilted my head back the other way, and opened my eyelids up, shining a light into my pupils.

I know they had to do so, to check for brain dammage, but damn that hurt.

"Pupil dilation normal. Patient, can you tell me your full name?"

"Jason Roy Richards."

"Good, the voice said, "Now, follow the card with your eyes." The person, who I guessed was a nurse by then, raised a card with a dot on it, and moved it across my vision. I followed it, as she said.

"Now with moving your head." She repeated the motions.

"Good, good, patient is Sanguine," she muttered to herself, likely filling out some kind of medical log. "Well Mr Richards, you have made a full recovery, no complications present. You are free to go when you wish."

"Excellent to hear." a new voice said, "Could we possibly have a moment to talk, privately."

The nurse nodded and left, pulling the privacy curtain as she went.

I sat up, as Ozpin spoke.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that, in lieu of your performance against Pyrrha Nikos in the arena, I have deemed you fit enough to enter in the student roster. Welcome to Beacon, I suppose congratulations are in order." He said, smiling.

It should have hit me harder, being a Huntsman in training, but I had company, and was too reserved to burst out emotionally like that. I respected Ozpin, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him. Even so, I allowed myself a satisfied grin. "Thank you Professor."

He waived his hand "You earned it, with your performance. But now that brings me onto another point."

My heart sank, hearing the seriousness of his words. "You are aware how I did not awake your aura previously, before the fight. Well, simply put, you have none."

I nodded. In a darker part of my mind, I had expected such. I was not of this world. It would stand to reason I wouldn't have something like an aura. If earth humans didn't have one, why should I just because I changed universes. My mind whirled as he continued.

I grinned. "Am I technically a Grimm then?"

An eye roll. "Yes Jason, you are. But in all seriousness, whilst your position remains unchanged, your curriculum likely will for the first year or so, which will make it harder to graduate. You will have to work especially hard in all regards to make up for this, just so you know."

I nodded.

"But remember, you will always have the full support of the staff at Beacon, and the teams you work beside. It is a narrow road, but it is a road that cann be traveled, and I have little doubt you will."

"Thank you sir." I said, the full implications beginning to hit me "It means a lot to me."

"That's good to hear. Now, down to business." He said, mood changing. I sat up, paying attention to his words very carefully. "As I doubt that you have a full set of supplies, I am giving you until sunday to fully sort your supplies and living requirements. Today is thursday. On monday we will introduce you as an Auxiliary team of one, who will operate alongside other teams"

He reached into his coat and presented a card with a flourish. "This is a school card, the pin is 7209. It's good for practically anything in Vale, from bus fares to clothes shopping. It draws from a specific savings account dedicated to exactly this kind of scenario, where someone might find themselves lacking in required material. The budget for expenses is vast, so you should have no issues with money, but I remind you that it is school money, and ask that you do not spend too much of it on entertainment products or a similar analogue."

I nodded, taking the proffered card.

"There is a bullhead waiting for you to take you into the city. It will pick you up again at five thirty to bring you back for dinner tonight. Now the pilot will be tracking your scroll, so keep track of time." He turned, leaving.

"Sir, one final question if I may?"

He turned back, "Go ahead."

"What are the rules for weapon design?"

He raised an eyebrow, surprise evident. "Well I don't know of any rules per se. There are definitely conventions, common designs, general groups of nature and behaviour, but nothing I could call a rule or a restraint to weapon designs. Granted, there are some standards in competitions yes, but I doubt you will be doing much of that. Does that answer your question."

I grinned, a plan forming in my head. "Why yes, yes it does professor."

"Good to hear." He said, smiling in return, and then leaving. I noticed a pile of freshly washed clothes, my clothes, sitting beside me. I changed quickly out of the hospital gown I was wearing and into my clothes. Stuffing the card in my pocket, I opened the curtain and left the wing.

The Bullhead pilot was a young woman, intent mostly on piloting the vehicle down to Vale below. I don't know if I should have tried to make conversation, but I sated myself by going through a map of the shopping centres in Vale. As expected, the city was huge, fittingly so, and most interestingly, planned. Everything I needed would be in the commercial district. God planned cities were nice. The intercom crackled to life.

"So where shall I set us down?"

Ahh, "The commercial district, anywhere suitable in there that won't get us into trouble."

She snorted, and I felt the Bullhead move slightly under my feet, adjusting course. Soon after, the doors hissed open, the craft slowing to a hover, two meters above the ground. I said my thanks, and jumped out, bending my knees to absorb the shock.

The Bullhead turned and rocketed away, leaving me alone to walk to my hearts content.

I strolled along first into a clothing store. The first thing I bought was a backpack, to hold all the stuff I would then be buying. A big thing, a backpack to wear tramping, one that you would use to carry all your living possessions, which was fitting. I bought ten pares of underwear, ten pares of socks and five pairs of fairly fashionable pants and shirts. And a proper belt. Then I bought a coat and some thermal wear to use. I payed, happy to not be using my own money, and sat down on a bench, and loaded my stuff into my bag. The coat I wore, the many pockets could hold more stuff.

I checked the time. 2.35. Good, I would have masses of time.

I slung my half full pack over my shoulders and kept walking. I found a pharmacy, and procured the required toiletries. Toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, deodorant. I also grabbed a first aid pack and a couple of low strength painkillers from the shelf. Good to have, I reasoned. The person at the counter didn't bat an eyelid at this, and I once again packed my new possessions into my pack.

What else did I need. Stationary?

I grabbed six or so pads of paper, some pens, mechanical pencils and a graphics calculator from a store down the road. I doubt I would need anything else.

Shoes? I grabbed a spare pair of nice leather ones and strung them over the back.

Time? 3.27. What else?

Something to distract myself?

I bought a sketchpad and a collection of fiction works. I confesses I was interested to find out what Remnant grade fiction was like, and I didn't want to get into some of my other hobbies quite so fast. I had enough to think about already. I had a whole world to adjust to, rollplaying can wait.

I bought a drink bottle and stuffed it into my pack, then bought a multitool and placed it into my pocket. A wallet, where I put the card.

Time? 3.45. Was there anything else? I had plans for my weapons, but I also had three more days to do so, and I didn't want to rush myself and do it wrong.

I bought an ice-cream and sat down in a park, going through a suspicion I had in my head. I searched up diving stores, then scrolled through the options, looking for heavier duty stores. Ones that sold diving suits. If diving existed, sea Grimm also existing, then it was likely that armoured and armed diving suits would exist. And something that heavy, moving at pseudo combat speed, underwater, I reckoned would be self supporting at least, powered at most.

My fist pistoled into the air in victory, as I found a store that sold just such suits seemingly. They looked heavy, bulbous, chrome. They were ugly things, designed to swivel around joints. The armour was perfect, but they looked slow, oozed slow. But at the same time, it was a start. And if my plan went through as I expected it to, I would not even be wearing it, but something else entirely. Something far better.

My had felt wet. My Ice cream was melting. Shit.

The ride back was uneventful, even less words were spoken. I thanked the pilot as I left, and followed the instructions to get to my new room. By the time I had gotten there, after a day of pacing and.

Come to think of it, it has only been two days I had been on Remnant. I had woken up in a different bed, in old clothes, taken and practiced with a new weapon set, fought a three time champion fighter, to the point of going unconscious, woken up, been accepted into an elite fighting school, then gone shopping by myself in an unfamiliar town vastly different to what I know, for the vital supplies for my continued existence.

It had been a very long day, I concluded, slumping on the bed. Dinner in the dining hall was at six, so I grudgingly pushed myself upright, and set off to find the dining hall. I remember it was on the ground floor, from watching Sun and Neptune walk around it, so that was a start. It took a little while, but I found it eventually, and joined the line. It took a while, as all lines in a boarding school do, in the few minutes after opening, but I got through in time, and looked around for a seat.

And then I saw it. A flash of red amidst the crowd. Joined by a flash of yellow, a shimmer of white and a quieter black. They were sitting halfway down the hall, by one of the walls.

I kicked myself, walking forward, if I didn't do it now, I likely never would.

"Excuse me. Is this seat taken?" Four pares of eyes, silver, gold, ice blue and lilac turned round in unison.

"Of course." Blake said, and I sat down.

Weiss looked over, suspicious. "I do not recognise you from initiation, who are you?"

Cold, blunt. Beautiful in a sense. Very German.

"My circumstances were abnormal. I was tested differently, and as such you would not have seen me. I'm starting classes on monday, where I will be introduced as an Auxilary team of one. My name's Jason by the way. Jason Richards."

"Would a team of one really be a team though?" Ruby said, caught in thought.

"I'd imagine it would depend on your personal philosophy." I replied.

"But a team requires more then one."

Blake of all people spoke up "What if the person has two souls, two personalities?"

"Dissociative identity disorder? Can't fault that." I was impressed that Blake would think of such. She learns from what she reads well.

"Dissawhatnow?" Ruby said.

"Split personality sis. Jerkyl and Hyde stuff." Yang clarified.

"Ohh."

"So what have you all been up too?" I ventured.

"Oh you know, school stuff, sitting through stupid lectures, learning to be badasses. Fighting evil monsters and the dread..." Ruby said with a passion "Homework."

Weiss for her part, pinched the bridge of her nose.

I laughed, letting a little bit of bass seep in. "Well sucks to be you all, because I don't have classes till monday." I said, leaning back as outrage errupted on the table.

"What!" Yang shouted, palms slamming into the table, "Bullshit!"

"Language!" the other three chided. Ruby for her part was staring, a pleading look in her eyes. Blake didn't seem to care or mind. Weiss seemed almost insulted.

"If you would like," she said with a slight huff "you can come round to our dorm in the evening and use our notes, so you aren't behind in class when you do start."

"Ohh Ice Queen." Yang grinned voraciously "Of all the people in our team, I never thought you'd be the first to invite a boy back to our dorm. Should we leave you too alone?"

I sigh, feeling a headache setting in. "Yang, stop being like this would you."

"Oh harsh Jason, harsh." She said, recoiling, placing a hand over her chest in mock horror. "Although, if you do want to..." she said, leaning forward again, eyebrows wiggling.

"No thanks." I said "If it's all the same to you, I've had... quite the sizeable day, all things considered. I'm going to sleep for at least eight hours after this."

That actually took the wind out from her proverbial sails, and she slumped. I guess she didn't expect me to actually reject her advance. I finished my food as they talked, and excused myself, bussing the tray, and making my way up to my room. I locked the door, and sat down on my bed.

I just met team RWBY. I just met team RWBY. That was something I never expected I'd ever find myself doing. Talking to cosplayers, ones that get too in character, maybe, but this, never.

I busied myself with laying out my stuff, unpacking my clothes and assorted possessions. I'd need my bag for more shopping tomorrow. It took an almost depressingly short amount of time to unpack the sum total of my possessions. But with that completed, I could then move onto researching the store I found. As before, they sold heavy diving suits, the kind of thing for use at a depth where the human body is crushed under the pressure. It was an old place. Small, and I would bet money that it didn't see a great flow of people. They mostly looked to hire out suits or sell them to independent buyers for private use. I did notice that the no prices were advertised for the models shown. That distressed me. That, plus the lack of business meant that the price would likely be on the high end of the scale. And those suits didn't look cheap. I had faith in the Beacon treasury, but this would be a significant drain of Lien. Would it be worth it? Could I spend so much on something I intend to immediately replace?

I decided to find out tomorrow, and lay back on the bed, hand falling to my side. I didn't even notice myself fall asleep until I did.


	5. A Tale of an Ancient Mariner

I woke up, feeling sapped of energy.

Big days always needed a day to recover, so I let myself lie there, in bed, muscles relaxed and mind tranquil in it's absence of thought.

I don't know how long I spent in bed like that, but when I grudgingly rolled over and checked the time, muscles upset at having to be used, I found the time was 8.01. Granted that I had gone to bed at around ten thirty, so my brain went to sleep an hour later, due to blue light affecting circadian rhythms, that meant I had slept for roughly nine or so hours. Seven was what I usually banked on. I could do with six or even five sometimes, but seven was my ideal time, all things considered. Sleeping any later make me feel tired, then sick. Eight was rare for me, and was never pleasant.

Nine hours of sleep. I never would have thought it.

I felt my heart quicken, at the sense of lost time, and I rolled out of bed, threw on a set of fresh new clothes, and managed to make it down before breakfast time ended. I made it, fortunately, and stacked my tray with food that looked fairly healthy and enjoyable. I was going to be training to fight giant demon monsters, might as well start eating well.

I didn't see any of the teams I knew. They had likely passed through here earlier, and were preparing for class. I sat down at one of the empty tables and ate in silence, focusing my thoughts for the day. I had another ride into town, that would pick me up from the landing pad at 11.00. So I had a little time before going into town today.

I finished up, returned to my dorm, threw off my clothes, and had a proper shower. Warm, high pressure water jetted over my skin in various forms and patterns, soothing muscle and feeling like a gift from a benevolent god. One of the most important psychological things in life, is a strong shower. I left the glorious contraption a changed man, buck naked, and ready to face whatever the world threw at him. I then decided to not face whatever the world threw at me buck naked, and proceeded to put on some clothes.

I checked the time. 9.14.

I re-checked the map of locations I wanted to visit, specifically the diving suit store, and a few other suitable ones that I would go to if I had to. I then grabbed my coat, and my bag, double checked I my stuff was still in there, and set off. I had nothing to do in my room, so I thought I'd go for a walk around the grounds, maybe visit the garden if time permitted.

Schools were always strange to walk around in, when classes were on, they always seemed deserted. The silence was deafening, enough to put me on guard subtly, my hand sitting in my coat pocket, gripping my multitool, eyes flicking to potential hiding spots. First ones off the path, then up trees, then on the sides of buildings, ears straining to hear a single footstep, a breath, a rasp of cloth or the click of claws.

Nothing, obviously. I wasn't going to be attacked at Beacon. Not for a while yet.

The gardens were pleasant, well tended and rife with all kinds of plant life, and I spent much time in there, before I checked my watch, and hurried to the landing pad, and got my lift into Vale. The store that sold the suits was a little out of the way, so I had to get a drop off and walk a little bit, before I could find the store, secluded as it was down a back street, big enough for only one lane of traffic. A little bell rang as I opened the door and stepped through.

The inside of the store was a little musty, but clean, rough carpet and whitewashed walls. There was an impressively old man behind a counter, that perked up immediately when he saw me.

"Oh, why hello. What brings a young man like yourself in through my doors?" he said, in a rich voice, slightly dusty with age, but warm.

"I'd imagine the desire to purchase one of the diving suits you sell." I ventured. I was never good at responding to those kinds of questions.

He laughed, an honest laugh, and got up from his chair. As he walked over to me, I noticed how truly old he must be. His skin hung off the bones of his fingers, and his tendons stood out on his everywhere. His back was hunched, and he had a cane. Not a cane like Ozpin, but a gnarled length of wood, that his hand rested on and moulded to like it had been sculpted to fit. I wouldn't be surprised if it was.

"It's good to see that there is still a little bit of wit left in the world." He said, sizing me up. I was a good two heads taller then him, three maybe, as he stood stooped. "Yes, I think I have a few sizes that would fit you nicely." He said, turning, gesturing me to follow. He paced at a surprising clip for a man of his age, down a row, leading me past several suits of different designs. Some had bulbous arms, some had tentacles, some had spindly manipulators that obviously were used by the arms which would sit inside the chest cavity. A few interested me, and I was about to go back to the start of the row of chrome suits to review some of the first ones I liked, but then I saw it, and it caught my eye like...

Well, like the one coloured object in a sea of colourless ones. And I'll admit, when I saw it, I stopped walking. Then I started again, beelining for the suit, laughing in the sheer absurdity of what I was seeing.

I really couldn't believe my eyes. Every other diving suit was flash, a chrome plated, futuristic piece of machinery, brand new and fresh.

This was a damn near perfect reconstruction of one of the big daddy suits from Bioshock. It was a heavy waterproof fabric leather gloved, bronze armoured goliath of a thing, complete with the signature bulbous headpiece, barrel chest and heavy containers on the back. The best part however was definitely the right hand, where a monstrous fusion of a drill and some kind of launcher sat in place of the hand. I didn't know the game, but I was sure that it didn't have anything like that in it, but I wasn't going to question it.

"Ahh yes... this old thing." The man said from behind me. I couldn't tell it his voice hitched through breathlessness or some other emotion, and his tone gave nothing away. "It seems you have a good eye for a story, my boy."

He wandered over to a chair by the wall, and I followed. "She's...beautiful." I said, unsure of what to say.

He smiled, fondly, seating himself down. "Yes she most certainly is. Heh, I should know best of all. I was the one who got to wear her."

I sensed a story, and I was going to damn well listen to it. One doesn't not listen to these things.

"Back in the old days. Back when I had colour to my hair, and if you could believe it, didn't walk with this blasted cane," he said, striking his cane against the ground, with impressive force, "I was part of a deep sea exploration group, somewhere between scientists and huntsmen if you will. We were like a special military group, who specialised in underwater activities. Fighting off deep sea Grimm a kilometre or more beneath the waves, as we took samples, laid important machines, and recovered important, often valuable equipment. We lived in those suits, all fifty of us. We spent so much time in our suits, that we recognised them as almost second faces. One glance and we knew who it was, from all the tiny differences. Mass production wasn't precise way back when." His eyes glazed over, and I could tell the memory was a cherished one. "There was Ebb and Flow, twins, Flash, Abyss, Vents. We never used our names really, and all our callsigns were based off oceanic events or something similar." He continued, as I sat there, enraptured. "I was Tide, I wish I remember when I got the name though. It was either how I tended to fight like the tide rolling in, or it was getting stuck on a particularly loose sand bar, and I had to wait for the tide to come in to pick me up. I keep hoping for the former, but honestly, it was probably the latter." He said, grinning a wide grin at me, half lost to mirth.

He leaned back, eyes glazing over, expression souring slightly. "But then, it got harder and harder to safely go out. More Grimm appeared each dive, and more of us kept dying each time. The first time it happened, we were all shocked. Some long fast thing hit him in the back. By the time we got over, it had bitten through his suit and into his body. Me might have lived on land, but we were two kilometers down, in near zero visibility. He drowned under the high pressure water, unable to expand his lungs to breathe with such a puncture." He sighed, again "By the time of our last dive, we were loosing many more then one person a dive. You ever fought underwater boy? It isn't as easy as up on dry land." He nodded, not caring for a answer. "Of course, we were all still willing, sure. But interest was being lost. Extremely risky, not of much practical gain, expensive. People began to loose interest, and in the end, the last few of us hung up our suits, never to use them again. Knots made his into a living room feature, Ebb and Vents sold theirs out to a collector in Atlas, and Barometer took his apart for scrap material. I myself took mine off, bought this shop, set it up there, for the few who would come looking so far in, and left it, where it had sat for nearly sixty years now, unmoving in it's dark corner." He finished, trailing off. His voice was rich, but the gentle pain was evident in it. That wasn't a light story, something easily told. It was brief, blunt, but I could tell there was a lot more to it that he wasn't telling me. That was his life story. If I wasn't as blunt to emotion as I was, I would have cried.

"But enough with those old memories anyway, so you like the look of her?"

I didn't know what to say, so I just turned to him, serious.

"Sir, I most certainly understand if you don't want to hand over such a treasure, especially to some kid you just met, but honestly, whatever price you ask, I'll pay it. Whate..."

"Ha!" He barked a laugh, cutting me off. "Look at me son. I'm an old man, likely seeing his last few days on this world, if I were to be brutally honest with you. I really have no interest for money at this point." He coughed, a wet rasp, as he hauled himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the cane. "And whilst I may be old, I'm not the normal sentimental old sod. She's been sitting in that corner for sixty years. It would mean the world to me, to see her move, just one last time."

He directed me to a step ladder, and sat back in his chair, issuing instructions. On the top of the suit there was a circular hatch, with a big wheel screw. It took a fair amount of force to open, but I managed to get it open, and with his advice, worm my way into the heavy suit. It was surprisingly spacious inside the heavy suit, the unique face plate gave an excessive amount of room for all manner of equipment. Holographic mapping of the surroundings to account for low vision, a sonar based map in one corner, and a series of statistics of systems. Despite all its oddities, the situational awareness inside was flawless. Under his advice, I sealed the top hatch, powered up the suits basic functions, removed the motor locks that kept it in place, and took a step.

Then another step, and another, and another. Within a few minutes, I was able to walk fairly well, considering the suit weighted nearly two tonnes apparently. After about an hour of this more, I piloted it back, locked the joints again, powered it down, and after a brief panic as the lock refused to budge to my initial attempts, clambered out, and thanked the old man, Tide, who looked so overjoyed, he might burst into tears. I promised to come back tomorrow, to properly learn to pilot the suit. His expression changed slightly, and he nodded, and sat back in his chair, as I left the small building.

I spent the rest of the time walking along the river, thinking over that single encounter. I could hardly wait for tomorrow to come, so that I could go back to him. He looked so happy then. It looked like he didn't get many visitors, or many people to talk to in his day. And that, no matter how introverted, is hard on a man. I knew that truth all too well.

My ride came, and I spent much of it pacing, planning, anticipating. I had not expected something so singularly...perfect. I was still going to produce something better for my needs with it, but in every other kind of scenario, I just discarded the unwanted suit afterwards. The same thought crossed my mind, and I felt a flash of guilt that I had planned to do this, to such a venerable piece of equipment. As the Bullhead pulled into Beacon, I had a thought. Whilst Ozpin did say that there were no actual rules on weapons or armour, would I be allowed to wear the suit. I'd imagine Ozpin would allow it, but Glynda, who runs combat class? She might not take so kindly to wearing a suit designed to take hits from sea beasts under colossal pressures. If such was the case, then I might need to fight with my sword and shield again. And if I was going to do that, I wanted to make a few adjustments.

Dinner was uneventful, and I didn't see anyone I recognised, so I made it a quick affair and headed back up to my room. I dumped my coat on the back of a chair, and took out my sketchpad. If I was going to have to fight outside of my suit for classes, I needed a plan. I drew up a basic figure, then drew on a sword/machine gun, and a tower shield.

Exoskeleton? Definitely. Once I get the suit scanned, I can replicate the exoskeleton, which would let me fight with greater strength. Granted, I still needed to bulk up a fair bit, but an exoskeleton like that would be a huge help.

Gloves? Maybe. In our duel, Pyrrha shot me in the hand. Not only did that hurt an obscene amount, but it stopped me opening my hand by severing the tendons. But gloves might make me clumsy in a fight.

I put a question mark next to the hands.

Leg guards? Probably. When I raised my shield, it did leave my shins open knee down. I think a little protection there wouldn't hurt, and would be a bonus if I needed to kick someone.

Helmet? Not sure. Most people like to fight without a helmet, and for good reason. Not only do helmets limit visibility, but they also limit oxygen intake. You already can't get nearly the needed oxygen in a fight, a helmet easily cuts that in half again. A helmet would mean the difference between getting out of breath, and literally passing out. But then again, my head is the most vulnerable area in my body as of current. If I could design some kind of oxygen feed, and CO2 filter, it might just work, and protect my important head. Or then again, it might not, and asphyxiate me before the opponent lands a solid hit.

In terms of weapons, I couldn't fault my current equipment. Sure I would like a little more range to my blade, but anything longer then what I have currently, and I couldn't effectively use one hand for it. The weight of the gun made a gladius weigh as much as a bastard sword. My shield, all things considered, was perfect. I couldn't think of anything that it specifically lacks. That may change, but for now, it's fine.

So my direct weaponry was fine, that just left augmentations. Grenades? Do I want grenades? I remember one person from a fanfiction once who used IED's with dust. It was a cheap way, and it didn't work, but it was an idea. But it was heavily frowned upon.

Area denial? I could make the ground slippery, or sticky? No, impractical. I wanted to find a way to use dust, but it seemed likely it would be limited simply to ammunition.

Gas? Pretty sure it's frowned heavily upon, but in a fight, something like that might be useful. I'd have to ask, but I made a note next to the face to include a respirator, and, thinking of Neptune, Goggles.

I put down the pad, as thoughts flitted through my head. What kind of clothes would I wear? Should I use my coat to mask my movements? Will my shoes have sufficient traction? What kind of weight training will I need.

It took a significant effort to stop myself thinking and go to a fitful sleep. I never slept well when I anticipated excitement the next day.


	6. A Trial by Water

I woke up, the only way I could tell in the blackness was the sensation of my skin on the bedsheets, and the weight of my own body against my lungs.

It felt early. I don't know how I could tell, but I knew it was early. It took me several minutes, but I managed to open my scroll, and move my face, so I could read the time it showed. It showed 6.30. So not as early as I'd have thought, but still early. Especially for a Saturday. I knew I should have gotten out of bed, maybe gone on a run, found the school gym, or use a training room. But I couldn't bring myself to do so. It was the weekend, and with all that had happened to me in the past four days, I was in the mood to grant myself a concession or two.

But I won't do the same, come the new week. If I wanted any hope at the path of swords before me, I couldn't afford to not devote all my energies into this. Already I had thought about trimming down all my personal hobbies and habits, to make room for this. Granted, there were some I would likely get into anyway, and I could hardly bear the thought of giving up some of them for ever.

In the wise words of Buddha, "everything in moderation."

I got impatient, and got up, and spent the next half hour doing situps and pushups. I was terrible at it. I could push through to twenty pushups before my elbows refused to go on. In terms of situps, I should have been able to do far more, but I honestly couldn't. All my fitness in my life came from hockey and swimming. I was a good runner, and given time, I could easily build up muscle to become an excellent swimmer. I had been a beach lifeguard for a while, and had gone in many competitions for such in my youth. I had always hated it and feared it immensely, but it left me fit. Sadly, none of this did too much for my abdominal strength, which was relatively lacking. I would need it, but it was going to be a bastard of a job to get it.

After half an hour of clumsily flailing around on the ground, making me feel stupid and sore, I decided to take a shower, and prepare for my day. I threw on one of my better pair of pants and a slightly tighter shirt. My logic that it would be better for wearing inside the suit, maybe a little more comfortable.

I went down to breakfast again at 7.30. I didn't recognise anyone there, but there weren't exactly many people there to recognise. I sat down at a table and ate my breakfast at my normal pace, wolfing down the porridge they served, and devouring the toast I had on the side. I knew I should probably have something better, but I was pretty sure porridge was a fairly good breakfast choice.

I went up to my room, and checked to make sure all my stuff was in it's proper place in my coat. I then proceeded to sit on my bed, search for particular types of music on my scroll, get up to take a leak, practice swinging around a lamp one handed, because I had honestly no idea where my actual weapons had gone after the fight with the Spartan, and finally lean out a window, to try and plot any kind of ingress path up the wall. There was one, but it would require a lot of jumping around above the ground.

Finally, I decided to go over to the landing pad, and boarded the Bullhead to take me into town.

I eagerly directed the pilot to the store, and I had to calm myself before I entered the store.

Tide was waiting for me inside, reclined in a chair, eyes closed, hands on his cane. When he heard the bell chime from the door, I watched him look up, and a thin smile trace his weathered face. "It's good to see you my boy!" he rumbled in that weathered baritone of his.

"It's good to be back. To be honest I could hardly wait." He laughed at this, pleased to see I was eager.

He gave me a bodysuit, and a pair of gloves and boots, and told me to change into them in the bathroom. I hadn't worn a wetsuit in a while, so it took me a little longer then normal to get it on, and then don the boots and gloves, linking them into the bodysuit. I exited, and he pointed out a laundry hamper to throw my clothes in while we were training.

We walked over to the suit together, and he sat back down in his chair, content to watch me enter, and offer help if it looked like I was struggling. I was mostly fine however, and under his reminder, managed to bring the suit to life again, and walk.

"Can you hear me in there son?" a crackling radio buzzed, surprising me greatly. "Touch the side plate of the headpiece with your index finger to broadcast. It's not a button, just a circuit to complete."

"I can hear you, go ahead."

"I've set the pathfinder system to lead you to where you need to go. Is it on?"

I searched inside the suit for the relevant switch. Most of the controls seemed to be switches. It was a little hard to find it in the dim light inside the suit, but I could find it eventually. I flicked it, and a yellow holographic pathway overlaid itself onto my vision. Bringing my body around, I stomped along it. It lef me through a series of doors, and up a few flights of stairs. I could hear Tide offering encouragement to me over the radio, as I gradually got better and better at piloting the suit.

I opened the final door, squeezed through just barely, and then found myself at a precipice. I had wondered when I would enter a pool, I was eager to do so, and I had no doubt that it would be exciting. I had most definitely not expected a diving platform at least fifteen metres above the surface. That's over a second of falling, dangerous because the impact can break bones if done wrong. The pool seemed a lot smaller from up here.

"Don't worry boy, you'll be fine, the suit'll protect you."

I looked over. Crap that was a big fall.

"Cmon lad, just jump out and dive in, the water's fine."

I bent my knees, heart racing. Ever since I was young, I had had a great fear of heights. Normally I had it mastered, but I still didn't like jumping off rocks or anything of the like. Fifteen meters up though, the fear had returned in force, hitting me like an unwanted sledgehammer.

"Go my boy, dive in, you can do it!"

I tensed, muscles pulling me up, forwards, unbalanced, moving.

"Dive, dive, dive, dive!"

And in a single moment of dread, I felt my feet leave the ground, as I hung in the air, fifteen metres above the surface.

Just like every dive I'd ever done into a freezing pool, the moment froze, as the weight of what I'd just done sank in.

My mind was working a mile a moment, and I processed the slow tug of gravity on me and my suit perfectly.

Nowhere to go, but down, and nine point eight one metres per second per second, and I could feel every moment of it.

Blood pounded in my skull, as my muscles locked, then relaxed, then locked, uncertain of what to do, my eyes spasming, whipping across each readout and display, as the ground blurred closer.

All in all, were it not for this, I would have never noticed the impact. The suit of course took most of the impact, almost all of it, and I only felt the slightest of pressure, as the suit told me I had hit something. The sound was massive, fortunately muffled by the suit. The viewing screen whited out, as bubbles streamed past the camera mountings in the headpiece, blinding me briefly before my vision restored itself, and I found myself at least five metres underwater in a dive pool.

"Diver? Come in diver? You okay down there?"

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I was fine.

"This is Diver, reading you loud and clear Tide. No problems on this end."

He didn't respond, and I realised that this was the first time I had actually referred to him as Tide. When he eventually responded, I could hear the emotional change in his voice.

"Good to hear. Now, I want you to bring the suit to full power. There should be a dial by the power section, turn it to the right."

I bought my left arm back in, and did so. A readout inside the suit showed a little dial spin to maximum.

"Now, if you've done that, activate the flood lights. There should be two exterior light options, flip 'em both. Also, turn the internal lighting to combat mode."

This took me a little longer, but when I did so, the controls were bathed in a deep red light, and the exterior view lit up.

"Now try moving your arm around. The flood light should follow your arm." He said. It did, albiet, not perfectly. It might use a tune up, maybe?

"Okay, good good. Now, I want you to repeat after me. Safe, caution, danger. The passive exterior lighting changes colour to these. It's useful for basic communication, where radio doesn't work.

I copied what he said, and the light went green, then yellow, then red progressively. The last one however, it didn't just light up red. The suit emitted a mechanical roar, that sent chills down my spine.

I tapped my suit finger to the headpiece. "Was that supposed to happen?"

For his part, he just laughed again. "Don't panic my boy, it's just the audio signal. When we had to use the danger signal, often people wouldn't notice it amidst everything else, like sea grimm. The audio measure is just another warning system. Also good for scaring people, no need to be nervous lad."

I could feel my cheeks flush. I wasn't scared of a simple sound, just worried about what it could be.

"Now my boy, listen. I want you to go to the weapons panel, and remove both safeties, and keep your hands off the buttons in the right hand. I then want you to gently squeeze down on the finger trigger, not on the thumb button, but the finger trigger."

I bought my hand in, and flicked off the safeties for both weapons, and then, holding my hand out before me, I closed my fist around the trigger pull. With a throaty purr, the drill bit on the end began to spin. I held the trigger down, and it spun at a blur.

"That's the drill function my boy. Twenty centimetres of dust propelled, sharpened stalker steel. Able to punch holes in a rock wall and sea beast with equal ease." Try it on one of the crates in the pool."

There were a series of wooden boxes lying on the pool floor. I stomped over to the closest one, and, drill blazing, punched the thing. I had expected it to splinter, but honestly, it was like it exploded, fragments of wood flying everywhere. Now this was awesome. There was another box to my right. I sidestepped over and swung my hand in a combination of an uppercut, and a pimp slap.

The box fragmented into a cloud of splinters, and I could barely contain my laughter.

"Hahaha! Good lad, good!" Tide's voice punched into the inside of the suit. "Now, I want you to point your hand at one of the boxes, and press the top button. Don't worry if your aim is a little off. Make sure to not fire the drill though, it overloads the system."

I force my hand to unclench, and the drill is silenced, spinning down, contained. There is a box directly in front of me, ten metres away. I aim my right arm at it, and press the button with my thumb. I can hear the mechanism thunk as a small palm sized object thuds next to the box, sticking into the tile floor. I adjust my aim, and miss again, before I get a hit on the box. This suit is not easy to aim with.

"Now lad," Tide busses, "Press the drill trigger."

I guessed what would happen, as I pressed the trigger, but I was still surprised when the disks detonated, turning the box to powder, and blowing unfortunately big craters in the pool floor.

"Ha! Betcha' weren't expecting that now. Directional charges, latch onto target, blow one way. Amazing for clearing rock formations and doing work underwater. Also amazing when used in a fight. Hard to aim, but these things can put a hole in anything. Small effective range underwater, the pressure causes a rapid deceleration, too slow and they blow, remember that kid. Although, I guess on land, you probably won't get this kind of issue so much."

I imagined it wouldn't. These disks can be moved this fast underwater, on land, this could hit with incredible force. It might even shatter aura, if I then detonated them.

"Now lad, I'm going to close off the top of the pool, and cut off your light. I have a series of training bots down there that will act like Grimm. You have to advance across the pool, navigate the obstacles and the darkness, fight off the bots, and climb out the ladder at the other end. Make sure to look at your compass, and have fun down there."

I could see the light being slowly cut off, as the surroundings dimmed. My heart rate skyrocketed. This was not expected. Multiple foes were not expected. I did not expect to have a fight in pitch blackness, against a horde of murder machines.

"Oh, and a final thought boy. You might think that by turning off your suit lighting, they can't see you. Well, most deep sea Grimm can in fact, see without light."

And like that, my world was plunged into darkness and silence.


	7. A Mantle Inherited

I was thinking quickly, trying to urge myself into a combat mindset.

About fifty metres in length to the other side. Each of my strides is a metre or so long, likely a little less. Can take a step each second underwater, going at full speed. Would take me a minute to get over there.

Enemy are in the water. They are faster. Discount running, would run into them.

Not defensible, can't let one get behind me. Hold position, let them attack from the front.

I will hold position here for now, and try and kill a few. Then, maybe inch forwards, around the sides of the pool. Avoid being flanked.

Where are they?

I shout warning, and wave my arm around, playing my floodlight everywhere.

My breath catches, as I see the beam play over the reflective form of a swimming shape, and then another, and another.

The pool was swarming with them.

In the movies, the person always roars in defiance, shooting at the horde of murderous creatures. Personally, I stood in mute terror, as I aim upwards, to account for drop-off at such range, and fired the first shot. Then, I fire a second, and a third. Each disk has a red LED, and I watch them travel, then latch onto swimming shapes in the darkness. They stop, and begin to knife through the black directly towards me.

I pull the trigger, and the dots disappear. I keep firing, spraying disks out at random, detonating them what felt like every ten seconds, but was probably just one. None of the lights are changing course now, they are all rushing towards me already, chrome limbs flashing through the floodlight. They look serpentine, and dart horrendously fast.

With each moment, every sequence of detonations, they get closer. The passive suit lighting can pick them up now, a tide of flashing limbs. I fire faster, fingers cramping. I can't properly fight what I can't see.

I feel a thunderous impact into my back. One must have gone above me, and flanked behind me, shoving me forward, breaking my fire.

The tide of creatures rushes forward, and I bring back up my right arm, drill spinning. It crunches into a first, and I feel it chew through one target, and then a second, before I bring my head up to see. I swipe around, and the drill connects a few times, before I seem to have driven them off.

I catch my eye on a switch that reads [ **Sonar]**. I quickly bring my left hand in, still swinging with my right, and flip the switch.

The holographic setup produces a wireframe image of the pool floor, complete with boxes, and a swarm of hazy static signatures, that I guessed must be the training bots, circling around me, out of reach.

I can't lunge fast enough in this suit underwater, so I pinwheel my arm around, firing more charges with abandon at the grainy swarm of static. Pat the hologram, I can see the red dots hit home. I fire roughly seven I guess, before I blew the charges, punching holes in the swarm.

I begin to back away, still firing, back to the wall, inching closer to the ladder, slowly. Painstakingly slowly.

By the time I get half way across the pool, I fire a last quick burst into the cloud, then turn to force a run towards the ladder.

I see the hazy signatures of several bots between me and the ladder, and I train my gun on them, getting them directly under the flood light before firing.

Now that I could see them, they looked a little like the military robots that would be introduced by Ironwood, just less...sturdy and more aquatic.

A second impact rocks me from behind, picking me off my feet this time, and I briefly note the swarm of signatures behind me on the compass map at the top right of my vision. Alarm sirens go off, reporting creatures latching onto the outside of the suit.

I fire at the ground before me, and detonate the charges, sending clouds of ceramic upwards like miniature volcanoes. The swarm breaks off, and I fall.

I roll, and can feel the teeth itching squeal of tearing metal as I crush the few clinging to me under the weight of my suit. I push up, and spin around, swinging, the drill head roaring in exhilaration at the carnage. I bring my arm up, down, left, right, desperately warding off the swarm as I backpedal as fast as I can, my free hand feeling for the ladder.

It finds a robot, and I grip it in surprise, swinging it round, slamming it into the swarm before me, and continue fumbling for the ladder. I can't turn, because the swarm will overwhelm me, and I can't take my eyes off it to look at the signatures on my compass map, because the swarm will get me.

I keep swinging my hand around, until I grasp something that feels like a rung.

I push my back into it, still swinging, forming a plan to somehow keep them off me as I climb up the ladder.

With a last swing, forcing the horde back, I bring my arm down, and fire in a circle around my feet, and detonate the charges.

Under the cover of the shrapnel cloud of tiles, I turn, and clamber up the ladder as fast as I can with only one hand.

I fire blindly with the other hand, and kick with my feet, regularly detonating the charges. Impacts ring against the suit, heavy and constant, and I worry that the suit may not hold up to the onslaught.

The journey up seemed to take forever, but in my panic, I make the five metre journey rapidly, and after the third sequence of fire and detonate, I hear my hand break through the surface of the water.

With a last kick, I haul myself out of the water, and into the brightly lit room. I stagger from the pool, and turn.

Tide is laughing his ass off. I guess he watched all that.

"It looks like someone got a little bit scared in there, are you going to need a change of pants?"

Ok, I wasn't scared. At least, not as much as he made it out to be. I was just sensibly nervous.

"It seems to me..." I say, breathing hard, my heart hammering in the post-exertion, "...that the whole point was to make it up the ladder."

"True, true, you got me there lad." He says, still smiling. "And in all fairness, you fared better then I'd expected. You spent a little under two minutes down there. Most people would take a fair bit longer then that, especially for their first time in combat. But then again, you never seemed like a stupid lad."

I shrug, "Thanks."

"Eh, you still flailed around like a drunk twat."

Well, can't hope for any better.

I stomp out, and back through a new corridor with Tide, as he talks to me about some of the other systems, and the basics of upkeep of the suit. I listen, as best as I can, before we reach our destination. He sits down in his chair again, as I lock the suit, and worm my way out. I peel the suit off me, and throw it in the hamper, as I don my other clothes again. I offered to return it, but Tide refused, and told me to keep it, for use again. I happily acquiesced to this, and threw it over the suits arm and sat with the old man a little longer, listening to his stories of his exploits deep beneath the ocean, interspersed with tidbits of advice about the suit.

But regrettably, time marched on, and as the sun grew low, warm evening light filtering in through the windows, I could hear the engines of the bullhead drawing near. I regretfully stood, and hastily explained m pickup was here, as I re-donned the suit.

By the time I got it on, Tide had walked to the door, and was holding it open for me. I thanked him as I manoeuvred out through the single door into the street. The Bullhead was waiting.

But before I left, I turned to Tide, who, in the warm low light, looked even older and frailer then normal, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Tide."

He stiffened, swallowed, and smiled.

"Go on Diver, go on son."

With a shivering left hand, he made a fist, and crossed it over his chest, firmly.

With a second of delay, I copy him, my left fist clanging loudly on the chestplate of the suit.

He nods, and for the briefest instant, I thought I could see...tears well up in his eyes, smile written across his haggard face.

Damn, if he cries...

I turn, and stomp to the Bullhead, and clamber inside. I turn to face him as the bullhead lifts off.

He makes the gesture again, watching me rise, and I repeat it.

I can definitely feel my eyes watering, vision misting up.

I clang my fist against my breastplate one more time, the loudest yet, as the bullhead clears the rooftops, and turns away, bringing him out of sight.

I stomp over to the door controls, and hit close, cutting off the roar of the engines, as I sit on one of the benches. I can feel tears actively streaming down my face, as I realise I likely would never see old man Tide again.

Dammit! I'm not an emotional person. I can switch off my emotions or weaker thoughts on a dime when I need to. I can make a hard choice of sacrifice instantly, and make the right choice every time, regardless of petty emotion.

I'm cold, ruthless, logical, impassive, rational.

Why then? Why am I crying!

Why am I crying?

Why!

Why!

Why?

When I got back, I bought my suit back to my room, where I locked the joints, powered it down, and extracted myself, before looking over the suit, marvelling at its beauty, but looking for any signs of damage. Fortunately, I could see nothing but slight indents into the metal, nothing serious.

Dinner was a lonely affair. I didn't bother looking for people I knew, I jut ate alone, and returned to my room. I had a little look at the mine layer system, but mostly I just surfed the interweb, looking for things to take my attention and distract me. Loss of life I could accept, injury I could accept. But permanently leaving a person, I don't know why, but it hurt, bad.

It was about seven when I set my scroll down, and made a rough sketch of the suit. There were likely things I needed to change in it, to adapt it to above water fighting. I couldn't move all too fast, I had no agility in the suit. So I would need something to counter that. A machine gun would work. Something separate to the right arm, capable of independent fire.

I draw in a blocky shape of a machine gun on the shoulder, and then I have an idea. I could make it an energy weapon, and extend the ammunition count. I'd need to fire it with a different system. I didn't want to use my hands to fire it, so I had my head to fire it. I knew helicopter pilots aimed using their eyes, and smiled to fire. I would need to develop a helmet of some kind.

I put down the pad, and listened to music for a little longer, before I put that down as well, turned out the lights, and drifted off slowly to sleep.


	8. A final day of freedom

I opened my eyes, and proceeded to shut them again, eyelids unwilling to pull open just as much as my eyes were unwilling to dilate and focus to the meagre light passing through the curtains.

I was awake, but my body was still very much asleep. I didn't want to, but with no small exertion of my will, I extracted my arm from underneath my pillow, rotated it, and cracked an eye open.

It hurt, but I held it open for the few seconds needed to read the watch face.

Big hand up, little hand down and slightly too the right.

Five in the morning. This was one of those days. No harm in not getting up quite yet then.

I don't know how much time elapsed, but I got up after a period of waiting, and forced my body to start, to bring my heart up to movement speed, to force my lungs into daytime patterns, and to force my legs one before the other, to carry me to the shower. The room was dim, but not quite lightless, and I could make out the room well enough to move. I had had great experience navigating such pitch black rooms, avoiding obstacles hiding on the floor as I did. It was easy enough to make it through the door to the bathroom, and slip out of my bedwear.

My old boarding school had always had the bathrooms lit up, bright like a spotlight. I gave myself the luxury of leaving the lights off and showering in the darkness, letting my eyes stay coolly painless.

I know I'm not a normal person, not by any margin. When I was younger, I was afraid of the dark. Now? All the fear I felt from not only darkness, but other phobias, seemed to turn into a morbid fascination.

I chuckled, I'm basically batman, except of course, less cool.

The air was almost painfully cold against my skin, as I dried and exited the shower. I liked my showers hot, to wake up my insensate body, but it didn't make getting out much fun. Fortunately, not only was my new room a more private abode, but also a better insulated one.

I wandered over to where my scroll was charging and checked the time. The agonising display lit up with the blinding readout of 5.57, and when I looked up, my night vision had gone.

I stood there, naked, waiting for my vision to return. A more normal person might feel uncomfortable at this, but I was fine. Some less then savoury experiences had given me all the self confidence I needed, to stand alone, in a dark room, whilst everyone else still slept.

Noise. I think.

I stilled myself, and held my breath, ears straining to hear every single sound around me. I could hear the quiet pervasive hum of electricity cables, the movement of the plumbing system, the rustle of the trees outside, the friction of the carpet against itself, the subtle strain of the building.

And the distinct sound of soft padding footsteps.

Walking silently, I crossed to the open window, and inch open the curtain, letting an eye see past, watching for any kind of irregular movement.

A flash of a tree branch caught my attention, then another, then another. I was about to turn away when I saw a figure slowly descend from one of the trees. Had my eyes not been trained and pealed to specifically see such a person, or my ears not open from years of listening to the faintest sound, I would have never spotted them.

They were wearing a black body glove, or grey, I could hardly tell in the lack of light. But what I could see is the distinct sight of bare feet. Obviously this person didn't want to be seen, and also not make any noise whatsoever.

They were good, smart. But I still heard them, albiet by complete luck.

But that was hardly anything of note compared to what else I saw, before the figure rounded the building and vanished.

It may not have been in its normal style, it may have fanned out, unchecked and wild behind the running figure, but I would recognise the distinct platinum shine of the hair of Weiss Schnee.

I pulled back inside and wondered. What would Weiss Schnee possibly be doing before six, out in the forest? Why was she out there? What was she doing? Why was she trying to keep it a secret? If it was a secret worth so much caution, what could it be? I sat down on the bed. If Weiss schnee was keeping such a secret, was this a, dare I say it, canonical secret? I knew of no such secrets to warrant this in the series, which left me with the uncomfortable possibility that this confirmed the non-canonical nature of this Remnant. That left me wondering if it could be some reason from some kind of fanfiction? Could that be the more reliable? Was she an assassin? A Faunus? A Grimm?

Was Weiss Schnee a Schnee at all? My mind was split between excitement and worry. I distracted myself by finally putting on some clothes like a decent person, and climbed inside the dive suit.

I closed the hatchway, and booted up the systems. I wouldn't disengage the locks, I just wanted to explore the myriad systems that the old man didn't get to.

I turned on the cockpit lights to full illumination and pursed the controls. I don't know what I expected to find, but aside from the ones I already knew, there really wasn't much else. There was a release for anti-fire measures, which I was sceptical about, as it would also likely asphyxiate me as well as the fire, if I knew anything. There was a series of dials for climate control, which I didn't want to touch, and risk making the suit intolerable. I fiddled with the map, and bought up a 3D wireframe render of the surroundings. It extended to the door, but could go no further. With a bit of jimmying I managed to make an additional wireframe next to the birds eye map I had in the corner of the system. I liked that, so I left it there, powered down the suit, and exited. It was lighter outside, and my watch read 6.32. I decided to put some shoes on and go for a little stroll.

The door opened with a slightest of whispers, and I poked my head out, looking around. I don't know what I expected, but there was no one there. The door shut with a muted click, and I walked down to the elevator, and took it to the smithing level. I had plans, big plans, stupid plans, and I wanted to look around and see what was there, and if these plans stood much chance of being realised in any practical sense.

I stepped into the smithery, and promptly decided it deserved to be called a forge. The place was enormous and full of all sorts of machinery I could only guess at. There were a great deal of rooms that shot off from the main chamber, into private workplaces. That was all I saw before she came.

"Welcome. I am Hephestus." an oddly smooth voice blared from a nearby speaker "Tell me, you are not registered as a student, what brings you here?"

"Oh, I'm a student, I simply am not registered as of current. I begin tomorrow. My name is Jason Richards. Might I know who you are?" I asked, already suspecting.

"I am Herphestus, an artificial intelligence designed to aid students in the construction, adaption and maintenance of their weapons and other mechanical devices, although I confess, most students are able, and do not often require my services."

Perfect. "Perfect, because I myself lack enough knowledge currently, and have quite a big project myself to work on. If I could have your aid in this endeavour, it may just be realised."

"Happy to help. It sounds like quite a project. If you would like, I can access your scroll, so we can work on it more often."

"Sure, that sounds excellent."

I got a notification on my scroll, a software packet that needed to be accepted or denied access to the systems. I clicked allow.

"So what exactly is this big project?"

I detail my plans to her/it, after a moment, likely processing the logic, she advised bringing the suit down to be scanned first, by the forge sensor systems. I jogged back up to my room, eager to get the suit down.

"Just wondering," I said between breaths, "do you scan every weapon that..."

"Pardon?" The voice issuing from my scroll was slightly tinny, lesser speakers I guessed.

"Do you scan every weapon used by the students."

"Oh," she answered, "Most of them. I have detailed logs of most of the weapons systems of most Huntsmen or Huntresses that passed through Beacon academy. Of course, some students prefer to not have their weapons scanned, for an assortment of reasons. Sometimes the weapons are significant artifacts, sometimes they are personalised tools. The process is by no means mandatory."

I reached my room at exactly seven, and quickly entered. I entered, and powered up the suit fairly easily. Walking it back however, quietly, wasn't going to be as easy, I then realised. Switching the power as low as I could make it, whilst still being able to see and walk, I exited the room, and slowly inched my way, ever wary of the heavy tread of my overarmoured footfalls, along the corridors to the elevator. Each footfall took a second longer, but I was willing to travel slower, to avoid waking someone up. At best, they get upset. At worst, they decide to either scream in fairly understandable shock, or even attack the lumbering monster patrolling the corridor. But it was all fine, and I made it to the elevator. The doors softly chimed, and opened. I quite happily on my part, stepped inside, and mashed the ground floor button with a finger of the thick gloves. I was a little worried about the weight capacity of the elevator, but it was a big space, and carried my armoured weight just as easily as it did on the way up. Granted, it did before, why should it fail now?

The doors opened, and I made it down the corridor a little way. I then encountered a person.

It took me a little time to see past the change of clothes, and the unkempt hair, but it was none other then Coco Adel. Morning run?

Whatever the reason. We were now staring at each other, a Huntress in training staring at an unknown hulking metal monster. The suit was quite wide, and taking up much of the corridor probably didn't improve my image in her eyes.

Seconds passed in silence, and I tried to wave my hand, the left one, as non-threateningly as I could.

"Nope."

What?

"Nope. Not before my first coffee. I swear, some of the shit you see in here." she mumbled, likely to herself, as she walked forwards, then pulled herself over me with all the grace of a dancer. I didn't bother to turn, and kept walking. I didn't see anyone else, and I managed to get to the Forge, open the door, and squeeze inside.

"Follow the guide light, and walk it into the scanning room. Does it need supports?" Herphestus blared from my scroll.

"No, it can stand alone unaided." I responded, swinging my bulk around and following the projected light to one of the offshooting rooms. It was unexpectedly large, circular, and well lit. There was a dais of multiple circles around the central point. I walked the suit to the centre of the concentric rings, locked the servos, switched off the power, and climbed out. A series of limbs had unfolded or extended from various ports and apertures around the room. They seemed to hold a myriad series of sensors and cameras.

"Now, this is quite a complex, old piece of machinery. It's going to take me a while to completely scan both the suit, hardware and software both. Sorry. It you need it soon I can put it on hold."

"No need, I shouldn't need it any time soon. How long though? Rough estimate."

"About 15 hours, give or take 5 at this stage. I simply don't know enough to make any better prediction at this stage. The metal is making scanning difficult, and I can't take it apart before I scan it to know how."

"Very well. Can I leave you to it then?"

"Of course, your presence is not required for the process. You are free to leave."

I left, and checked my watch. Time for breakfast I think. It was strange really. I had potentially confirmed that this universe may not be canonical necessarily, discovered the workshop of the school, and its AI, and taken the first step along my plan to forge my dream weapon. And it wasn't even breakfast time yet.

I wandered outside a bit, waiting for the minutes to tick by, for the dining hall to open, and found myself in the courtyard. For some reason, that hit me hard. I was on Remnant, in Beacon. I had met team RWBY, and would likely work with them in future, along with JNPR. Oum was/is allergic to Juniper berries, by complete irony, which ends up killing him before his time. In return, Oum is treated as the unofficial god of the RWBYverse. JNPR are godslayers, and godraisers at once.

Breathe.

I forced myself to open my eyes again, and focused on my surroundings. This courtyard already played host to a series of crucial meetings, and would play host to even more. It would be torn up under a great broadsword swung by a drunken crow, fighting a frozen dove, before being trampled and torn by ink black monsters of the deepest dark.

Breathe. What was wrong with me today?

Granted, that was hardly fair. I had just had my world obliterated and restarted over the last few days. I had lost...a lot. I had changed bloody planets, bloody universes. My vision was different, as were all my senses. Maybe even my mind would change in turn, and I am stuck in an existence where I know the future exactly, and surrounded by strangers whom I already know intimately. A state of being that some have called godhood.

A lonely god.

But if that was the case, there were still so many things outside my control, outside my knowledge, outside my power.

Some god, I reflected, as I sat and watched the morning sun rise. So much yet unknown, so much yet unreached. The stars.

I looked up, and stood up. There were limitless heights to ply yet in this world, and I was very likely the only one who had the knowledge from both universes to ply them.

That knowledge was not as comforting as I hoped. I decided to take the edge off by having some food finally. Sunday breakfast was a relaxed affair, and I confess, I lacked the interest to eat much of substance or complexity. A bread roll, some king of potato and bacon mix and what I guessed was grape juice, but was sweeter then I remember it being.

I spent more time outside, wandering aimlessly, even having a few idle chats with some people I met, going about their day. It was strange, all these people, who had no idea who I am, walking among them. I probably shouldn't keep calling myself a god. Not good for the ego.

I spent much of the morning outside, before it got warmer, and I wandered back to my room to get my coat, and all the things in it for my final trip into Vale. By the time I walked over to the landing pad, the Bullhead was waiting for me. I boarded and once again, flew in silence to vale. I chose to drop myself off closer to the common shopping districts this time. I had bought my pack, and started off with buying some more clothes. Some summer wear stuff, things to wear for training exercises, then some cold weather gear. I couldn't remember if I bought sunglasses, so I bought a pair as well.

I saw what looked to be the equivalent of an Ipad, and bought it. It was really more like a larger scroll, but it could balance, and had a greater processing power, or so the description said. I am hardly an expert on such matters. It came with a stylus though, which would be a bonus.

On the whole though, I honestly didn't have much to do. I spent an hour wandering, before I bought some weights, that I thought I could use to improve my fitness in private, and then wandered around, before finding a place to sit down. The weights were bloody heavy, and my feet were beginning to get a little sore.

I bought myself a drink, a strange combination of juice and milk, and sipped it, as I sat by my bag. I tried setting up the larger ipad scroll, and drew a little sketch of the scenery, before I finished my unholy drink and decided to go for another walk.

I bought a set of headphones on the walk, and wondered exactly how I had forgotten to already, but managed to remedy that slip up, minutes before I was picked up by the Bullhead pilot. That was strange. I had thought that the day was dragging on, but where did the hours even go? Granted, by this stage I was exhausted. The days where I wake up early tend to do that, and well, I was a little bit more on edge, quite understandably. I beelined back to my room and unceremoniously dumped my pack, and went to the dining hall for dinner. I didn't see anyone I knew, and didn't really bother to check up on it. I just went back up to my room, listened to some music, did stuff on the ipad tablet thing, and crashed, an unknown time later.


	9. A first day of School

I had woken up at six in the morning, again. I would have gone back to sleep then and there, but I forced my sleeping muscles to bring me to the shower. It was to be my first day of school, and I would damn well be ready for it. I stripped off my bedwear and slumped into the bathroom, hands fumbling for walls and remembered objects where my memory was less then perfect.

I stuck the temperature to cold. It bought back some truly unpleasant memories, but it woke me up, enough to frantically turn the shower to a warmer temperature as my heartrate skyrocketed from the remembered trauma. Granted, trauma may be a stretch, but it was very hypothermic and extremely stressing at the time. But it had been nearly five years since then, I was over it.

I turned off the tap, and walked back into my room. Someone at some point, had left a uniform out for me, and a few spare shirts, neatly pressed, hanging over the door handle. A part of me was uncomfortable about how someone had accessed my room so easily whilst I slept, another was just relieved to have the proper uniform. I shaved, then got changed, making sure that my dress was impeccable for my first day. My first day at my new school, in a new universe.

I had to unclench my teeth, I hated cliche tropes. The uniform I'd happily admit, was a lot better then my previous one, in the fact that it actually looked nice, like something someone would wear to an event. And it didn't have a stupid stripy sock tie. Granted, the new tie was particularly different to tie, but the uniform felt...off. Like it was slightly wrong. I was probably just used to my old one, and how it felt. I would get used to this one in time. I checked it over. Two blazer pockets, outside. Calculator and notepad, check. One lapel pocket, left, pens and pencils, check. Two interior pockets, great. Scroll in the left one, right one free for other stuff then I guess. I tried searching for a Beacon school website, but found nothing major, bar an information site about the school. I guess they have a closed system, or just are less electronic. Granted, Beacon is a combat school foremost. Electronic learning might not play too much part.

I sorted my books and refill and other gear, and then checked my watch. 7.30. Breakfast time then. I made sure to get some fruit this time, and to avoid putting sugar onto my porridge, or anything too unhealthy as a toast spread. I am not anything close to a nutritionist, but I know healthy from unhealthy enough. Didn't make for a nice breakfast, but it would fulfil its desired role, and with luck, I'd adapt to it, if I stuck with it, and might actually enjoy the taste, again, if I stuck with it.

Someone sat down next to me.

"Hey." a voice said. slight hint of an accent, apathetic, not lazy but uncaring. I looked across in response.

Dark green hair, a stripe of pink, thin features, resting bedroom eyes.

Lie Ren.

"Hey." I said in response. He nodded, and turned back to his own tray. I liked Ren, he reminded me of myself.

"I don't think I recognise you from any of the classes, are you new here?"

"Yes, starting today."

"You have much to look forward to. Beacon is an, interesting place."

"Oh of that I have no doubt. I also have no doubt I'll be eating those words soon enough."

A snort. "Well, I wish you good fortunes. What is your name?"

"Richards, Jason Richards."

"Lie Ren," he replies, briefly turning to shake my hand, then returning to the last of his food. He ate deceptively fast.

"Well then, good luck Jason. Find happiness here." and with that, he was gone. He spoke little, but the conversation moved oddly fast, snappy, to the point. Yep, I liked Ren. I finished up soon after, and left myself. I was halfway back to my room before I received the message on my scroll. **[Jason Richards, could you come to the Headmasters office to be introduced and to sort your timetable out. Ozpin.]** Did he want me to go now? I couldn't risk it. I'd go now. I entered the lift and hit the top floor instead of my original intended button.

The Elevator opened out into a wide room, a massive, familiar room. There was nothing comforting about this room, it radiated power, control, age, will. It wasn't a place for idle chat or warmth. It was also the headmasters office.

It was occupied by more then just the headmaster.

Ozpin was there, seated, as was Glynda, stern behind her glasses. As was eight more in fact.

A Brawler, a Ninja, a duelist and a Reaper.

A Knight, a Spartan, a monk and a Viking.

Teams RWBY and JNPR. Exactly as expected.

Yang and Ruby waved, Blake and Weiss nodded in recognition. I nodded in return and stepped forwards, next to them.

"Now, this is Jason Richards. Due to the unusual nature of his enrolment, he was not assigned to a team. Normally we only offer a select number of openings, to ensure that every person is has a partner, and every partner is in a team. Now, as Mr Richards' case was unusual, he was enrolled and tested under different circumstances."

Pyrrha inclined her head to me, and I felt my heart race. Pyrrha was a champion fighter, and I have little doubt her say influenced my passing. She seemed, fortunately, to be impressed in some fashion, although in which I do not know.

"Now whilst he qualified fairly, that leaves him as a lone individual, bereft of the support of a team. What we do when these situations occur is form them as an auxilary, an additional student, who effectively acts alongside two other teams in academics and on the battlefield. Jason Richards will therefore be acting alongside yourselves, as your two teams also hare a close bond."

And because we agreed previously that I would act alongside the two teams, as they are at the centre of everything about to happen.

"So, I expect you all to get to know each other well enough. Mr Richards, you have a new room, next to teams RWBY and JNPR, which you will move into later. For now, I believe you young people have classes to get to."

I checked my watch.

"Oh no." Ruby squeaked.

The time was 9.02. How, where did the time even go? I'd guess classes started at nine then. Most of team RWBY had already piled in, and I quickly rushed in, before they could leave without me. But I made it, and the doors dinged shut a few seconds later, and the lift shuddered as it descended. It was slightly more crowded with nine people, but it was now unbearable.

"So, you're the new guy huh. Name's Jaune arc." a young voice said, and I turned to see a boy, a little taller then myself, maybe 6.2-6.3, with blond hair, holding out a hand.

"Jason Richards." I said, shaking it. Come to think of it, off all of them, I had only not met Jaune and Nora at this stage.

"Hi, I'm Nora!" Nora blurted, in that distinctive voice, pulling me in for a hug. She was small, but damn strong.

Stupid adorable viking cream-puff.

"Hi, nice to meat you Nora." I said, my chest struggling to expand, one hand clapping her on the back in greeting. I was never too good with hugs. I could give them, but was it appropriate? But she released me from her death grip, and bobbed in her feet a bit.

"Well," I began, "It's good to meet you all, or for some of you, meet you all again." I nodded to RWBY and to Pyrrha and Ren, letting a smile in. "By the way, what class do we have first? I'm afraid I never received a timetable, so I'll have to go off you."

"We have Grimm studies with, Professor Port." Ruby said, dejected. Most of the elevator sighed in resignation, with only Pyrrha and Weiss remaining composed. Even Blake and Ren looked disappointed, although less extremely.

"Ahh," I said, chuckling, pretending to not know what they meant, "I'm going to guess, not the most pleasant of classes then."

"Oh the course is fine." Yang said, "But the stories, Oum the stories."

Heh, Oum.

"Ahh, I know _exactly_ what you mean. I used to be in a church choir. The priest we had was great, but he often made the mistake of bringing in guest preachers. Some were not exactly...good at-"

"Not really a person who should be speaking to a whole lot of people who don't really want to be there." Yang butted over me.

" _Exactly_." I said, grinning, doing a shameless "Lucifer" impression. I severely doubted they would get the reference, but I couldn't help myself.

The doors dinged open, and we took off, sprinting. I was a fast person, a very fast person. I had participated in sprinting competitions and won them previously. Against aura trained protégés however, that standard was once again higher. By the time I removed my pens from my lapel pocket and gripped them, I was already at the back, and had to sprint particularly fast to catch up. But catch up I did, overtaking Jaune and Nora and Yang, before the race ended as we literally burst through the doors to the hall within.

"Ahh yes. I was told by Ozpin that you all may run a little late. Never fear, I am not heartless. Do take your seats." My god, that voice was truly something to hear. We staggered up to a row of spare seats, and sat down, as professor Port, the portly, bushy, glorious god continued his story about going hunting Grimm, and his heroic exploits.

We sat through the lecture for the rest of the 53 minutes left. It was impressively droll, and everyone seemed uninterested. And quite rightly. They all lived fast paced lives, so slowing down to put up with this must be agony. Ren was coping though, he had zen, a cool, calm focus to himself, that I wish I could enact as well as he did. However I needed no focus. To me, these stories about heroic conquests and feats of battle prowess were far more interesting then the poorly thought out metaphor and fable that I had heard so often, when I sung in church services. Their entire belief was flawed, false, and they couldn't even make a well thought out sermon that didn't sound like a conspiracy theory or bad fanfiction of the bible. Albiet, the divine comedy was well known and liked. But still, these stories, delivered by a confident speaker, well known but not over rehearsed, about exciting topics, with little bits of information were easily able to captivate me for the time. I could hardly believe that I was listening to Professor Port.

But in time, the bell rang, startling everyone, and making Port cut his story short, which was a shame, as everyone filed out of the hall. I stuck with the group, as we grabbed some snack foods for morning tea, and wandered outside.

"I thought that would never end." Nora stated loudly, as Ruby collapsed onto the ground under a tree, making sobbing noises as she threw a light tantrum. "So how did you enjoy that Jason?" Blake asked, quiet, composed, but with a trickle of mirth.

"Honestly. I didn't mind it."

Eight heads snapped around in shock, or rather seven. Ren didn't seem too surprised. The fact that Weiss was, made me laugh to myself.

"Where I come from, I honestly never got to hear any interesting stories. The most I ever heard were long winded life lessons about nothing particularly interesting or relevant, or badly prepared speeches that didn't want to be speeches. It was not a place that approved of fighting as a whole. So to hear stories, however droll, long winded or exaggerated, about great battles and useful life lessons, learned the hard way or not, was actually interesting for me."

"Wait wait wait." Jaune said, "You can not only follow that easily, even enjoy doing so, but find actual useful information from those stories? Can you just, like, listen for us, then recount the important bits to us at the end?"

Weiss huffed, but I agreed "Sure, I can do that." The others actually cheered at that. We sat under the tree, eating, drinking and making merry. We had a study break until 11, where we had History with professor Oobleck. Then we had a lunch break, and then we had combat training, with Glynda. I didn't know what combat training would look like. I had a good idea, but would I end up participating? Ozpin had said my curriculum might be different, but he hadn't told me exactly how yet. I hoped I wouldn't have to fight anyone, or at least, anyone good.

But in time, Ooblecks class rolled around, and we all set off, grudgingly. I knew that his class was the hardest academically, likely due to how fast he spoke. I was nervous, as I had never been very good with history, especially not the history of a different world. I would have to avoid attracting attention, and maybe do research in my own time. His hall seemed larger almost, and I almost laughed at seeing the good doctor. He was doing as he always did, drinking copious amounts of coffee, hair frazzled, shirt untucked, spectacles shining, doing things all over the board at a speed I thought biologically impossible.

He was in front of me.

He grasped my hand in his, and shook it, "Helloyoungman mynamediDoctorOobleckandwelcometomyclassroomonRemnantshistoryitisgoodtoseeyou please takeaseat." And with that, he was gone, leaving me standing, still. Someone laughed, I guessed Yang, and pushed me inside. We took seats in much the same position, but I made sure to sit next to Weiss this time. I might be able to copy her notes from previous classes, should I need to.

The class was, almost easier then I'd expected. It was still a hard enough class, but it wasn't like some of my other classes, learning about the processes in biology or chemistry and the like. The main difficulty in the classroom was the extremely rapid, fast paced, sporadic. He was difficult to follow, and even more difficult to take notes for. I might have to just write up my notes after the class. It would be good for memory, but also would take up extra time. But after an age of going through tedious military history, we managed to get out of that place. We had gone through the early military history of the Faunus wars, troop movements, battle strategy and the like. But it had ended, and I had stopped the passage of several less appropriate notes. It may have been boring, but we must yet listen, it could be important.

We headed to the dining hall, and had lunch, going through all the standard motions of idle chatter. I excused myself and went for a walk, promising to meet back at the arena for combat class later in the afternoon. Apparently it was the one class that I didn't want to miss, according to the others. I however, was less thrilled about the one class where my life might be in danger, but that wasn't too major. I would go, but I would just watch, hopefully, probably. Surely no one would end up fighting me, right?


	10. A weird, clumsy brawl

I decided to run back to my room, and retrieve some of the sports gear I had bought the other day. I severely doubted that others would be wearing something similar, but this honestly was the best I had on me. I didn't even know what had happened to my other weapons, and I doubted that I could use my suit. I might be able to, but if it was going to be my first time, I didn't want to weird too many people out. Besides, it was still sitting in the armoury, and I would look pretty silly showing up in it, if I didn't even spar. Besides, that suit looked good enough for Grimm, but against trained huntsmen and huntresses, even in training, it would move too slowly, and had too many weak points. I'd save training with it for later then. Should I have bought a mouthguard? Too late for that in any case.

I packed up my training clothes, and in afterthought, grabbed my coat and took off at a fast walk. My destination, the arena. I had five minutes to get there, easily enough time. I passed by several other students, but nothing came of it, and I reached the class as one of the first students there.

"Mister Richards." a sharp voice rang out.

"Yes Miss Goodwitch?"

I turned to see said Goodwitch, walking towards me, intent on talking. I in turn, hurried towards her.

"This is combat class. Not sparring or weights or a free match. This is unrestricted combat. I'm not sure if it's a good idea to do this in your current condition." She said.

She knew I didn't have aura. I'd expected as much.

"As long as it's not against someone of too great a skill, like Pyrrha again, or Ruby, or Lie Ren."

"Are you certain? You are slower, weaker and will hurt yourself a great deal more with each glancing injury if you wish to continue." She said. I knew exactly what she meant. I had no aura. I was statistically unlikely to succeed by the best of estimates. And my suit was a school away, and would not help me. But I couldn't just sit back and watch.

"I am sure. I need to start fighting eventually, if I wish to become a Hunstman at all. And now is as good a time as any."

She sighed, but she didn't contest my point. It didn't account for many variables, but it was still valid enough to pass her scrutiny. I watched as more and more people trickled in slowly, and waved, as team JNPR entered. They sat down, and I decided to strike up a conversation.

"So, who here has actually fought in a duel in this class yet?"

"We all have, at some point, over the last week." Pyrrha replied, not even missing a beat. She continued, "There is time for most people to duel at least once every lesson, and then detail what flaws they displayed led to their success or failure. Mostly it's to test ourselves, rather then actual training. That is done in sparring or in the training rooms in your own time."

She knew exactly what I was going to ask.

"Right. How do they decide who fights who?"

"Whom, you mean." Weiss said, heralding the arrival of team RWBY, neat. "And they use a random generation system, to make any selection fair."

Well shit. I do not want to fight Cardin. Or maybe not him, but there were still many here that I did not wish to fight. But my name was in, and I could do nothing to change that.

More people arrived, and class eventually started. I was nervous, but there were a great deal of people to scroll through.

So naturally, I came up in the second match. Against Jaune Arc.

That was either good fortune, or Glynda had altered the odds. I suspected the latter.

"Okay, you have five minutes you to, to suit up and grab your weapons from your lockers. Mister Richards, your equipment has also been placed in the armoury. Follow Mister Arc if you will." Glynda said. Oh, so thats where my shield went.

I followed Jaune to the armoury, and we changed into our combat gear. He has his distinctive hoodie and chest armour, with jeans. I looked significantly less coordinated with my running track gear and a black coat. A cross between a pedophile and a jobless man, but younger. I resolved to pick out better clothes. At least I could breathe.

I checked over the shield, sword. I didn't know much, but I knew enough from my assorted memory to check for cracks, chips and worn areas. I couldn't see anything, and the blade felt smooth. Next came the amunition. With a little jimmying, it opened. It had been refilled. Come to think of it, it had slightly less rust on it then before. Had someone maintained it while I was recovering?

"Aww man! Everyone else has such cool weapons!" Jaune suddenly burst, from behind my back. "And I'm stuck with this."

I spun, he was hefting Crocea Mors.

"It's not the weapon that matters you know Jaune. It's how it's used." I rebuked. He didn't like his weapon, I knew. But there was nothing wrong with it.

"Granted, it matters a little, but not so much as to sway a fight."

"Oh yeah? Then prove it. Trade." He said, holding out crocea mors, to me.

Thoughts ran through my head.

Could I deny it? He'd take that as a confirmation that weapons decide a fight.

I could play it off. Say he'd beat me anyway? No. Jaune right now knows less then I do about fighting. He'd see it as a lie.

If I did trade? Could I beat him? If he won with my weapons, it would prove his point.

But in the end, I had no choice anyway.

"...Sure. But only this once. We shouldn't practice fighting with other peoples weapons. It's not advisable, and Crocea Mors is your weapon."

"Yeah yeah, I know." He said, as I passed him my shield and sword, and let him fumble around with it, putting it on.

I strapped on Crocea Mors. It was supposed to be a relic, but it felt sturdy enough. Lighter then my other gear, and actually balanced. The sword felt weightless in my hand, and I swung it, a few times.

"Shall we go?" Jaune said.

"Probably." I conceded, following him back into the arena.

I felt slightly conscious of how I looked, I'd admit, but I was more worried about how I was going to get around my own equipment, and how Glynda would react. But, when I looked up, she made no effort to question why we had each others weapons. She could probably guess why anyhow.

"Fighters, take your positions."

I moved to the starting point, as Jaune moved to the other. Glynda rattled off the match rules, but I honestly didn't pay too much attention to it, barely reacting enough to confirm I understood. I was watching Jaune. He had the gun notched, and set at me, chest height, shield close to him. I'd guess the strain of a tower shield was unusual for him, compared to his normal smaller shield. His feet were close together, equal favouring, left foot forward. He was hunkering behind the shield, planning to shoot at me, using the new abilities in my weapons that his lacked. I'd wager he'd be eager to, which makes him predictable. But I had already used that exact same strategy, and knew that it could be beaten.

But I'm no Pyrrha.

"Take stances." Glynda said, and I widened my stance, ready to spring, shield raised to cover my vitals.

He would open up with a burst of fire to my body. I'd catch it, and run to his left. The shield was curved, and the gun struggled to pan that way. I'd have four steps before he moved and had me. Step back, cut to my left, two steps. Jink again, back to my right. That gets me close to him. Body chuck to break his guard, then let loose.

"Ready!"

I felt my heart race, and panted quickly, willing myself not to freeze.

"Begin!"

I was off. Sprinting straight towards him.

Jaune was slower off the mark, and I had a half second before he fired. The bullets hit harder on Crocea Mors, and I held it in place, as I shifted, sprinting right.

The gunfire passed behind me, and I peaked out. Four steps.

The arc of fire caught up to me, and I raised my shield again, pushing off my right foot hard and sprinting left. The violent hail splashed across the shield briefly, but was gone.

I managed a third step, and pushed off again, raising my shield and twisting to catch the spray. I was four strides away.

I lost all pretense at footwork and charged him. The spray caught up, but the shield wore it. It was cose enough I didn't need to position it much.

I forced the shield to the muzzle, and spun, jumping and slamming my back into the Tower shield, knocking him back a step, putting him off balance.

I felt him recover.

The thrusters.

I pushed, rolling my body left. The blow was startling, and it was only the motion that saved me from being thrown across the arena, which would be my doom.

Instead, the two of us were off balance, next to each other. I recovered, and as Jaune unlimbered the gun I swung the sword down hard, catching the movement and sending his sword ringing. My shield punched into his face, hard, and he stumbled.

I stomped forward onto his foot, put my weight down and swung the sword around. A graceless arc to the head.

It rang instead off the shield, which had moved to block on its own accord.

Pyrrha? Or just coincidence?

Jaune had recovered, and his sword moved in a warding thrust. I blocked the weak jab, but it gave him room. His shield locked close, he yelled as he swung an overhead shot at me.

For some reason, I parried with the sword. A push upwards, rolling the blade with the strike, no place to buckle. His aura enhanced strength, even poorly honed was impressive, nearly spraining my wrist with the force, but I stopped the sword.

With the last push of energy, I stepped forward and slammed my shield into his armpit.

Even with aura, that had to hurt, and he backed off, arm clamped down, moving away.

I was exhausted, lungs burning, heart pounding, muscles pained. It wasn't as bad as before, but I couldn't continue.

I spared a glance at the scoreboard. Jaune had just not quite breached yellow.

Of course. Arc aura, plus weak, auraless blows on my part. Still, I'd expected more.

Where my name should have been, the monitor was blank.

Of course. Auraless combat can't be a common thing.

I was beginning to doubt my ability to win, but I couldn't not.

I spun the sword, and charged again, as Jaune fired.

I ran straight at him this time, shield turning away certain death.

And with a metre between us, I planted a foot forward, and stopped. I had predicted a swing with the shield, and like a clockwork door, it swung open on rocket propelled hinges. And in a final motion, I reversed velocity again and slammed the pommel into Jaunes face.

I was at my end, nearly dead on my feet, likely not upright if I wasn't punching and hitting, but I put every last drop of energy I had into that, hitting with the cross guard, pommel, shield edge and knuckles as much as the actual blade. Back and forth, proper technique, moving shoulders, twist hips.

My legs dead, weapons forgotten, I grabbed Jaunes arm and twisted my body, legs hitting his, throwing him to the floor, myself following like a marionette with cut strings.

One arm was trapped in the shield, and couldn't come around. The other, I put my knee over as I fell.

I landed on his chest, and kept putting punch after punch into Jaune.

I don't know how many I put into him, but at one point I heard Glynda cut through the static haze of my hearing. My vision was going a little grey at that point.

"Enough! As mister Arc's aura is now in the red, he has lost the match. Victory to Jason Richards."

In response to hearing that I'd won, against an aura'd opponent, I half rolled, half slumped off my prone foe, and rolled onto my back. My lungs wern't working, too much O2 debt for my body, and I had to consciously pant hard, but I felt life return to my dead body, and put my head up to see Jaune, already standing.

"Told you...it's not about the weapons...just how you use them." I said, still breathing hard.

"Guess so." Jaune said, not even winded much at all. He held out a hand, and I happily took it. He might not be too good at technique, but he had more then enough strength in his frame to pick me up off the floor. Yep, he's going places.

"You two are excused, go shower and get changed. Mister Richards, I want you to report to the medical bay immediately afterwards for a full checkup. You know why."

I nodded. I'd wager a few people noticed I was fighting quite oddly, and that was a good way to get me to go to medical, but also suggest that the reason was private. People likely wouldn't pry as much. Thank you miss Goodwitch.

There was a row of shower stalls next to the locker room. I took the closest, stripped off, and quite happily sat down on the bench under the shower. It was hot and had incredible pressure, and was exactly what I needed. I sat there for a few minutes, chatting idly to Jaune and attempting to find the most comfortable positon.

"I do wonder one thing though." He said, suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"You're a fast guy. You know how to use a sword, and how to fight well enough with your hands as well."

"Eh, debatable."

"No, you must have learnt boxing or wrestling I'd say, so why do you use a tower shield and a shortsword? I'd admit, it's a good choice of balance between ranges and attack and defence, but you can't wrestle or use martial arts with that, which you know how to do. So why?"

Not completely clueless. "Okay, what I say now, you tell no one."

"Don't worry, I can keep a secret."

That you can Jaune.

"Officially, I'm on Aura suppressants, for medical reasons, pertaining to something that happened last year."

"Wait! But it you were on Aura suppressants, you wouldn't be allowed to fight, or even spar in hand-to-hand!"

"That is correct, but think. What injury would require Aura inhibitors?"

A pause. I doubted there was any case where your Aura, that heals you, need be suppressed.

"Exactly. That's because, I can't actually generate Aura."

He snorted "You're joking."

"I'm not. That's why I took the most protective shield, the most adaptable weapon, and why I fight the way I do. It's also why I have to report to medical after this. In case I pulled a muscle or dislocated a finger in the brawl. Pyrrha also knows, I fought her for my initiation."

"Yeah, she told us about that. That was you?"

"Yup. Lasted forty seconds."

"Damn, and without Aura too. I can see now why she seemed a little shook up. She kick your ass?"

I sighed, "Boy, I hope you never find out how bad she did. I did well for a bit, but I got exhausted, and then she took me apart like a surgeon, and I didn't have the energy to raise a finger. But anyway, tell this to no one, no one."

"Got it." He said, as I turned off the showers. I sprinted out in my towel and retrieved my uniform, then ran back, and got changed.

The walk to the medical wing was nothing major, but I felt exhausted. The crisp feel of my uniform made me feel better, as had the shower, but it did not remedy my body.

"Hello dear. How can I help you?" one of the nurses greeted me.

"I'm here to get a basic once-over, to see if I'm injured. I just had combat class."

"Ahh, yes. Mister Richards, follow me." Another man interrupted, then turned away. I followed.

"Okay, now sit down, over there yes. Good, now just relax, this may take a few seconds."

His eyes closed, and I felt...something touch me. It was warm, and felt almost...bright. Aura? I could feel some joints ease, so I guess so. But the feeling ended, and the mans eyes opened.

"No significant tissue damage. You, young man, are in perfect health, just a little fatigued from your fight. Here..." He said, rooting around amidst draws, before pulling out a box of small tubes. "Since you don't have Aura to replenish your body after strenuous activity, I strongly recommend that you take one of these after each fight. It's an electrolytic paste, and is mostly concentrated glucose with a few other chemicals to replenish the body. It's no substitute, not for Aura or a hearty meal, but it helps your body quickly restock well needed materials. Make sure to use them."

"Will do sir, thank you." I said, taking the offered box.

"No need for that lad, now get going, you have no excuse to skip class in here."

I left, and ripped open a tube, squeezing the thick sticky paste onto my tongue, before following it down with a mouthful of water from a nearby fountain, before making my way back to class.

I got back just in time to witness Yang sink a punch into some poor sod's kidney, sending him flying, and his aura into the red.

"Victory, Yang Xiao Long. Go have a shower and get changed. I expect to to come back after as well. Mister Richards, anything to note?"

"Nothing professor, just fatigue."

"Very well, you may retake your seat."

I sat back down with the others, and received a strong congratulatory slap to the back by Nora, before we talked, discussing my fight with Jaune.

Yep. I think I might just do well here.


	11. An important planning session

And that was my life.

Get up at six thirty, shower,

I had added a run outside. I just ran until I couldn't any more, until my lungs burnt and chest heaved. I then walked back, showered again, and did some streches.

Breakfast was at seven thirty. I'd meet up with either team, if I saw them, or just ate by myself. I was trying to eat healthier now. It wasn't any easier yet, but I live in hope.

After breakfast, I'd go up to my new, permanent room, and relax until I had class. There were a few new classes that I didn't have on my first day, such as Gym, practicing with weights, track, practicing running, but also drills for those quick movements made in fights. Those classes were the worst, but I could feel the effect that the training was having on my body. I had exempted myself from combat, but I hoped that soon, I would be able to fight someone, without hurting myself, or feeling so terrible.

We also had sparring, which I enjoyed immensely. Whilst hand to hand, it was a lot less structured and observed, and we were mostly free to work in pairs, teaching ourselves. I guess I enjoyed it most, because I was actually at the upper end in the class, most students being used to weapon based combat. Still, I didn't intend to fight Yang at any stage. I may have done some martial arts in my youth, but she has done martial arts her whole life. And has Aura, and actually lifts.

I did however enjoy fighting Ren of all people. Like me, he wasn't the strongest or fittest of people, but he made up for it with skill, technique and Aura projection. When using all three in balance, he was a monster. When using only the first two, he was an excellent training opponent. Not only because his technique was more polished, but also because he was one of the few people who could and would happily carry a conversation whilst sparring.

The final class that we had, was less a class and more a study period. We had allotted time to access the training rooms, the ones I had used before my match with Pyrrha. I had spent a little more time using my shield, and had begun using the diving suit, practicing shooting and smashing targets with abandon.

Those classes left a great deal on time in between however. I spent the vast majority of that time working on my little project with Herphestus. Even with her help, and all my ability, it was painfully slow going. I, we, were almost designing the thing from the ground up. Different skeletal system, to house different servo muscles systems, plus the old skeleton for redundancy. Which kind of motor system is better, projected energy requirements forsuch motors use, projected amount of motors required, projected energy output required, projected generator size and weight, adapt calculations, redo.

Armour plating. Thickness? Composition? Weight? Ergonomics? System space inside? Ease of movement? Vision restrictions? Soft armour protection? Air recycling? Water pipe? Waste disposal? Sensory systems?

Total weight? Total power draw? Power source?

Adapt, redo calculations.

Intended weapon use? Recoil absorption, aural dampeners, targeting overlays, speed of motion. System control.

It was long, slow work. But I could envision the solution to each issue, bar one.

How could I ever control these systems? Helicopter or plane pilots could use their hands, as I could in the deep sea dive suit. But I wanted something better, and I couldn't just stick my hand back into the body to flip one of a hundred different switches.

Voice control? No, would take too long to say in a fight, too complicated, and honestly I was more concerned about how fast the motors could follow my movements. If the suit lagged behind me a centisecond it could be fatal, and definitely make me clumsy.

Facial signals? No, I'd probably be as likely to accidentally grin after killing a grimm and accidentally fire on a friendly. And it would do little to help me with what I wanted.

That left one more thing I knew, a B.C.I, or brain computer interface. IN the interior of my helmet I could fit sensors, that would measure my brain electrical output, and through training, recognise my intention and act upon it, at the speed of electricity. If my rough estimate was correct, it shouldn't inhibit me at all.

But this day was not like the others. There were no classes for the day, all that had been pegged up was a field trip to forever fall. I wished I could have gone as well. The leaves were turning their incredible bright red, the kind that reminded me of the world I stood in. Nowhere on earth did leaves grow such an incredible red coloration. But it was not to be, I guess. Ozpin had requested my presence for the day.

The doors to his office dinged open, with a pleasant chime to them, and I entered, hands folded behind my back. Ozpin was standing by the window, looking out over Vale down below.

"You know, mister Richards, there is a great symbolism in this view." He said, bidding me over.

"Vale lies below us, quiet and peaceful, whilst Beacon stands above, protecting and sheltering it from the encroaching darkness. But it also stands distant. Large yes, but distant. And no matter how it appears from Vale, it takes viewing from this angle to truly appreciate how far above it all we are, and how distant. But I confess, I did not call you here to force you to listen to me monologuing, but for a different purpose entirely. Tea?" He gestured to a tray. I loved tea, but it was too warm still. I would sweat terribly badly.

"No thank you professor."

"Very well. I called you here to question you. You are aware I am considering transferring Amber's soul to a new candidate, likely miss Nikos, in the hopes it grants her the powers of the fall maiden?"

I nodded. We hadn't even discussed anything even remotely related before, but he knew I knew.

"I want you to tell me how it pans out, should I select her."

Ahh, very well.

"You end up forced into doing so. However, the process is interrupted. Ambers assailant returns, and manages to kill her, retrieving the full extent of the fall Maidens powers."

"Ahh, so it's a moot point whom I choose. Continue." he said, frowning.

The two of you fight, in spectacular fashion I might add. However Ambers killer is a trained professional, and eventually manages to overpower you. She kills you professor, but it leaves her drastically weakened in power, enough that Pyrrha Nikos is nearly able kill her, literally sword to her throat." I say, miming the actions.

"But she doesn't." Ozpin replies, guessing the outcome.

"Correct, she isn't able to bring herself to do so, and hesitates. In response, her sword gets shattered, her aura finally gets depleted, and she takes an arrow to the ankle, like the mythic Achilleas, before she is executed with another arrow to the heart."

"So Pyrrha dies. Do you know who I do on to?" Again, assuming I know his secret.

"Yes, a boy named Oscar. You eventually meet up with Qrow, who..."

"Gives me my cane back, after I ask for it."

"Correct."

"So, how do we stop this from happening? Must we transfer her soul earlier?"

"Honestly sir, I'd suggest that we all act like we don't know any better, and play our rehearsed parts as they come."

"Which results in my death, Pyrrha's death, and if memory serves, the complete annihilation of Vale, Beacon, and the loss of the Cross Continental Transit System, throwing the children of dust back an age?" Ozpin said, almost sarcastically.

"Yes, but at the last moment, we change it. Think about it. If we act exactly how you would always have acted, Salem and her forces will act exactly as they would act in turn. Cinder Fall, Ambers assailant, arrives to participate in the Tournament, the White Fang get Vale on edge, using supplies stolen by Roman Torchwick. They pin everyone down, and make everyone think one of the two finalists was murdered, chopped to pieces before them. They use the fear to attract Grimm, and convert the armies the good General brings with him, to attack civilians and huntsmen alike. During the commotion, Cinder Fall slips away, and the battle of Beacon tower takes place."

"...I follow."

"Now, if we change a few factors, it all turns out alright, and we can still predict their actions. White fang use the tunnels to mount glen to get Grimm into Vale, so post automaton soldiers everywhere in the commercial district that day, and with the students already there, damage is minimal. Larger attack occurs later, we can plan shuttles to quickly take civilians to bunkers, and isolate the controls to the robot army, and the Grimm attack looses all its effect. It was only a real battle once the Generals robots turned on us alongside the grimm. If they don't, the battle is far less serious. And Pyrrha will only die if there is not someone to save her in time. Ruby nearly does, but is a second too late, which awakens her silver eyes."

"Ahh, say, if there was already someone waiting, hiding up there, unseen..." He ventured.

"Yes, I can wait until she slows, and goes in for the kill. Her powers are depleted, her aura is thin. One bullet, to the back of the head while she's distracted."

Ozpin nodded. "She dies before she can realise it, and her power goes to the last woman she focused on..."

"...and now Pyrrha Nikos is the Fall maiden, without ruining her soul." I completed.

"Damage to Vale is minimal, Salem fails in her big gamble and looses a valued asset, and we can go on the offensive maybe."

He nodded again, a smile creeping across his face. "For years now, centuries, I have been playing this game, knowing nothing of who I fight, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. Now, I feel that we may just have a chance at this."

"Yes sir. Just wondering, can a scroll be traced?"

"Location wise, of course."

"From a call location?"

"I believe so. Just a matter of triangulation isn't it?"

I couldn't stop a grin forming on my face, "Oh that is excellent."

He leaned forward, a small smile playing across his features. "Why do I get the feeling you are about to do something devious. Do I want to know?"

"Spoilers sir, spoilers."

"Ha! Very well then. Anyway, a final question. Your class is out in forever fall, siphoning sap. Does anything of note happen?"

I thought back to that episode. Rapier wasps, an act of defiance, an Ursa attack and respect earned. Pyrrha turns out to be able to control polarity.

"Eh, some stuff happens, but nothing that doesn't get worked out in the end. Cardin had been strongarming Jaune, by threatening to reveal his secret if he didn't do as he was told."

"Ahh yes, young Mister Arc's forged papers. Does that get worked out?"

"Yes, Jaune accidentally sets an Ursa on Cardin, then saves him."

"Good to hear. Anyway, you are free to go, unless you have any questions for me in turn." Ozpin said, returning to his chair.

"None I can think of sir. Good day."

I walk back over to the elevator and press the level that goes down to my room. I had a whole afternoon now to myself. I intended to enjoy it. Work more on the suit maybe, find some music I enjoyed, or a parallel to it at least.

Does an anime world have anime?

I was going to find out.


	12. A secret to be found

Cognisence.

I woke up and knew immediately that it was earlier then normal. I could litterally feel the chemical balance in my body that told me I had woken an hour early, my mind breaching awareness in light sleep sequence.

My body didn't want to move, but in a Herculean use of willpower, I forced myself to roll over, and an unresponsive heavy limb to grasp my scroll.

The display read 5.25 a.m. Knew it.

It was one of those mornings. In my old life I would have stayed in bed, going back to sleep, of going on my laptop until I had to get up to shower. Not this life. I rolled out of bed, and forced myself upright.

Every morning I went on a run. I'd get up, throw on some jogging gear, and run around Beacon and some of the running tracks nearby until I got tired, then jog back, shower and stretch. This originally took about half an hour, but I've managed to add onto it about ten minutes so far on a good day.

This morning was not a good day. It was heading into winter. The days weren't too cold yet, but at 5.30, the lack of sunlight left the air crisp and chilly. I tried to keep up a brisk walk, arms locked to my sides, the gentle wind slipping like needles through my clothes and into my skin, giving me goosebumps for the first time in...a while now.

But I resolved to enjoy it. Cold it was, but it was dark and quiet, and I enjoyed th...

Noise.

Footsteps.

They were light, but easily heard against the relative stillness, but they were growing louder.

Not louder, closer.

There was a corner a few metres away, they would round it. I dove off the path and behind a tree, before crawling under a bush and peeking out between the roots. The ground was wet with dew, which leeched the warmth from my skin, but I ignored it, and stilled my body, using every single trick I knew to avoid detection.

None of it mattered. The person sprinted round the corner and immediately slowed to a stop, arms raised, the dagger raised to ward off a strike.

The figure was clad in a black bodyglove, which, on closer inspection, was grey and patterned with a camouflage pattern. They were barefoot, and held themselves as a dancer would. But probably the most telling thing was the long spray of well kept, platinum hair that spilled over her shoulders.

It was Weiss Schnee. I gave up the proverbial ghost and stood up.

"Oh, hello Weiss. Didn't expect you to be here, sorry about scaring you." I said, wiping dirt from my front and trying to look apologetic. She didn't care.

"What are you doing here!?" She asked, with absolutely no warmth at all to her tone. On edge.

"Oh, sorry." I said "Most people aren't up this early, so when I heard someone running, I guess I just thought the worst, and hid." I said. It was a half truth, crippling social anxiety made up the other half.

"Neer-do-wells in Beacon? Hardly!" She scoffed, indignant, before going back to defensive. "But I meant why are you up so early in the first place yourself?"

"I don't know honestly," I replied, truthfully, "sometimes I just wake up an hour early. This time, I just decided that I may as well start my run now. Get it out of the way."

"...Seriously?" she said, probably disbelieving. I would. The dagger lowered.

"Hey, if I was lying, I would figure out something far more believable." I said, and paused before I asked my next question.

"So why are you up so early anyway. The rest of your team led me to believe you were a late sleeper?" I ventured, poking the proverbial hornets nest. I smelled a secret, and whilst I never cared for them, I knew secrets can have serious effects on people, if they aren't shared.

"S-same as you." The wall was up again, even if the dagger wasn't. I probably shouldn't go on, but I knew I would anyway. I raised an eyebrow.

"So you go out running, at five in the morning, barefooted, wearing a camouflaged bodyglove, with a dagger?"

The proverbial wall doubled in size. "Y-yes!" She forced "And I won't be judged by you! How I go running is my business and my business alone!"

"Ahh, right. Please, forgive me. I just thought that, if I had to keep some kind of secret, I would go about it in the exact same way you seem to go about your runs."

She actually raised her dagger and took a step back.

"But, I really don't much care in any case. Secrets are meant to be secrets after all, and if you developed one, I would expect no less from you. After all, it is hardly my business." I said, and watched her slowly relax. I moved to walk past her, but thought better, and grabbed her shoulders. They were small.

She attempted to move away, but I held her.

"But Weiss. In the event you do end up developing some secret, one that gets too heavy to bear alone, please. Come and tell me. I hold secrets for nearly every person I've met, and they are never as major as they seem. Besides, with all the secrets I have, I doubt anything you say could surprise me."

She pulled away, and I stepped back. I almost didn't hear her mutter as she turned away.

"I doubt that."

I went back to walking, but with a wet shirt, I couldn't find the drive, and went back to my room. Weiss was undoubtedly hiding something. She was well mannered, but a terrible lier when put off. But the real question is what could she be hiding? My brain came up with potential after potential as I stripped and showered, and none were good. Cultist, serial killer, double life, secretly a ninja. It didn't help that I could faintly smell copper or iron on her as I got closer, or that she looked slightly pained. Cutting? Depression? Suicidal? All were possible, easily possible all things considered, and none of them were good.

I distracted myself with another quiz. How had she seen me? I was hiding under a bush, behind a tree, in a pool of relative shadow, at night? Either she was extremely lucky, or good at spotting, or I had made some kind of slip in my hiding. Had I left a trail? Was I too loud? Was something poking out? Was the light wrong? I doubted it was smell. Did she just know where to look for hiding places? Maybe. She may have used the same spot herself once.

I turned off the shower, stepped into my room, and began stretching, as my mind went on, planning the day.

I met with Ren for sparring practice. Normally I would be more interested in fighting with actual martial arts, but this day I came to him with a question.

"Ren?" I ventured, blocking a palm, before bringing it to my side and swinging with my back hand to his face.

"Yes Jason?" He replied, voice level, weaving aside and swinging a kick to my head.

I spun into the blow, and powered a fist down to where I guessed his gut was. "You're a good gauge at fighting styles aren't you."

He vaulted away, spinning low, before springing back, "I guess so, why do you ask?" His palm flashed out.

I evaded, and lashed out a counter cross. "You've seen Weiss fight correct?"

He grabbed my hand, and we began to move into close range punching and grappling.

"Yes, during initiation and in class." He said, stomping on my foot and pulling me.

I countered the throw by body chucking into him and attempted one of my own. "In your opinion, does her fighting style look like it's used to a second weapon?" I ventured.

He countered the throw, and pulled me down as well. "I'm not sure. Do you have any specific kind of weapon?" He said whilst trying to pin me with a leg lock.

I kicked out and stood up, arms raised. "Yes, something like a second blade, a dagger maybe? In the off hand?"

He made to rise, but instead struck out at my leg, putting me off balance. "It's hard to honestly say. On the one hand, a lot of the way she holds herself could suggest that, yes." He vaulted up in a display of acrobatics, and we circled each other. "A lot of fencing uses swordbreakers, which are smaller heavy daggers used to trap swords. These are held in the off hand. She may be trained to use them. On the other hand..." He said, darting in and ducking under my guard.

I twisted my body and robbed the blow of it's strength, before standing on his foot and jabbing into his shoulder. He blocked and swung a palm into my knee, ripping my leg wide open. I used the falling motion to land a heavier blow to his head, and forced him away. "From what I've seen, she's used the the focus of one weapon. Most of her technique she uses would match that of a spear or lance. In all fairness though, I'm hardly qualified to give a reliable response. Maybe you could confirm with a person who uses a similar weapon or style?"

"No problem, thanks Ren. Unfortunately I have to ask you to avoid mentioning this conversation to anyone else."

He nodded, "Of course, it never happened. Although why did you ask?"

"Eh, just a thought I had, it's honestly not really anything..."

"...Just a thought." he finished, bowing to me. I bowed in response and sat down as he left. Ren may have been a glass cannon to others, but his endurance still eclipsed mine, so I tactfully let him leave first.

I slumped, letting myself relax, and something sprang at me from the rafters.

A long blade embedded itself into the wall next to my head, nearly nicking my skull. Another blade was pointed directly at my eye, close enough that it would probably cut my eyelid if I blinked. I looked past the dagger and stared up, at the crouched form of Weiss Schnee.

" _Stop prying_." She said, words so cold they were bitter.

"Wha?" I said, my brain not working with a dagger so close to stabbing it.

"Don't play dumb. I heard you talking to Ren about me, asking about this." She said, shifting the dagger. My pulse skyrocketed. Please don't slip.

"Why? Why are you all so interested? You yourself said it wasn't your business, that you didn't care for secrets, so why are you prying now?"

Breath in.

"Because I'm worried. I told you I hold secrets for most of the people I've met didn't I. And all those secrets, even the minor ones affected the health of the person. Keeping secrets is fine, but it's very often not healthy. I've seen too many people loose too much in my life to just sit by and watch someone with so much promise carry around a secret that big. I've seen grown men cry and be admitted to mental hospitals from keeping too many secrets, an I don't want the same to happen to you." I said, mouth working rapidly. The last part was exaggerated a little, but the message was clear enough.

She got off me, and took her swords away, before turning, composed.

"Stop caring, stop searching, stop trying to make me better. Let me be."

And she was gone.

Wow. That was not good to hear. I had ruled out using as a weapon, she wasn't carrying it right anyhow, and it wasn't build as a weapon. But what I had realised was some fairly significant mental health issues with Weiss. And as she was that close, I could see how pained she was. Then again, she grew up in the Schnee household. Of course she suffered from mental issues. Isolation, depression, affection deprived, driven to be better. I knew those feelings well enough.

And I knew how it would pan out if I wen't any further.

Reluctantly, I forced my mind to shift the issue to the back of my mind, and hurried off to the library for study.


	13. A less then pleasant day

I sat down in a corner of the library, and opened my books up. The library was full of students working or studying, papers to hand in or work to go over. I was not.

In comparison to my last school, the academic load on the students at Beacon was considerably lesser. Of course it is, Beacon is a combat school. Whilst the academic load was by no means easy, I could manage it without putting too much time into it. My books were of a different nature.

Engineering. I may have been ahead of nearly everyone else in an academic sense, or at least used to dealing with more, I was leagues behind in practical engineering and weapon design.

And I needed them for my project. I had worked out a skeleton to go around my body, and was busy mapping synthetic muscles to mirror those of real muscles when I felt hands on my sholders.

"Hey, Jason. Fancy meeting you here." A voice too loud for a library said above me. I rolled my head back and looked up.

My view of their face was blocked by boob.

"Hello Yang." I said.

She laughed and sat down in a nearby chair, as did the rest of team RWBY, each carrying a load of study books and other objects. Ruby for her part went to sit, but stopped and came back over to me, eyes slowly widening.

Oh dear.

"What are you working on?" She asked, leaning over my shoulder. My tablet thing was in front of me, with an overview of the total project. Most of the leg muscles were in, as were the larger ones in the arms.

"Oh, just a new weapon that I plan to use. Still a ways to go before it's done though."

"Is it some kind of weapons platform? Do you have anything at the moment?" She said, attention focused on seemingly absorbing every feature of my work into her memory.

"Yes, something like that. Sadly I don't have anything to work with yet, just some basic plans for the skeleton."

"What's it going to be like when it's finished?" She pushed, way to eager.

I smiled. "Sorry Ruby, spoilers."

"Wah, you cruel man, why?" she spluttered, feigning a look of betrayal, which I wasn't sure if genuine of faked, as she sat down at a free seat around the table.

"So," I ventured, "What brings you all here? I hope this isn't an intervention."

"No," Yang replied "You missed lunch again." She tossed me a bag. It had a couple of sandwiches and an orange in it.

"Oh, sorry, thanks." I replied, setting it aside. "What do we have next by the way?"

"We have study time for a few more hours, then we have training room time. Why do you ask?" Weiss said.

"Oh, just checking. I was thinking on going on a walk."

"But why are you designing a weapons platform on the body like that?"

Wait what?

Ruby was looking up at me from her chair, and I noticed she hadn't been paying attention at all to the conversation.

"What do you mean? I don't see anything wrong with it?" I ventured. I honestly didn't know what she meant by that.

"I meant why are you designing a weapons platform at all? Sure it will let you carry larger weights, and you can even armour it, but anything you do will slow yourself down too much, making you less effective then you would be overall. Speed is important."

Oh, that's what she meant.

"Ah, ok, tell no one this. No. One." I said, making eye contact at everyone around the table. "This conversation goes to no one else."

Sudden nods from everyone. I paused to gather my thoughts.

"Right, officially I'm on aura suppressants right? For an injury I got last year."

More nodding, albiet less certain. I don't think I told them this.

"Well ask yourselves, Aura heals and protects the body. Why would I need to be on Aura suppressants? What injury could I have received that I need to suppress Aura, that heals you, to heal up?"

Confusion, slow realisation beginning to dawn.

"The reality of it is, that I am unable to manifest Aura. Please don't shout."

"What!" Both Ruby and Weiss went, prompting a round of shushing.

"But then how are you in this school? Ability to manifest Aura is a prerequisite." Weiss said.

"Now that." I said, "Is one of my bigger secrets, and one sadly that I cannot tell you. I admit, I may end up telling you in the future, but not now. But anyway, I'm designing the suit, so that I'm stronger, and tougher, as a substitute for Aura."

"So that's why you use a tower shield," Blake spoke up, "and an automatic submachine gun. It's the most defensive thing you could have chosen."

"Yes, it's also why I wore the cloak, to hide my profile." I replied. Blake was insightful. I liked Blake.

"Wait, so you gave your weapons to Jaune that one time. You literally charged into fully automatic weapons fire without aura! Are you suicidal or just crazy?" Yang said.

"Neither, I predicted every single thing Jaune would do, adapted, planned and countered it. Every movement I made in that fight was planned and premeditated. I was in no danger, don't be worried for my sake." I replied "No need to baby me Yang."

"Still, in a fight you often don't have that luxury of being in the other persons head." Blake spoke up.

"True, that's why I train. To be fair, I actually bought an intermediate suit that I'm basing my design off."

"Can I fight you in it?" Ruby said, her interest returned at the mention of a suit.

"Eh, sure I guess. Although I need to ask if we can not use bullets. The suit was designed for Grimm, not to stop bullets."

She was undaunted, and kept pressing me for information. It was hard to deny her, especially with how excited she was, but despite it all, I didn't give anything away. Besides, she would see it in a matter of hours, I wasn't exactly holding it from her. I made an excuse and left. I went for a walk, found a relatively private place under a tree outside on campus, and kept working on the suit, connecting muscles to support struts, working through the basic motion concepts with Herphestus, before I found myself drifting off. I was tired. I hadn't slept properly, and my day had been hard.

My body requested a brief nap, and I decided to oblige it.

* * *

I didn't exactly sleep, I just shut off nearly every sense I had. Time became lost to me, as did light and sound and stress. All I could feel was the slightest touch of the cold ground through the haze, and the barest scent of xylem sap, from the plants undergoing photosynthesis and releasing it into the air. It was quiet, relaxing.

It was the most peaceful I had ever felt, since changing planets.

So naturally, someone came along and ruined it.

Shoe treads have a particular feel when applied to the side of ones face when attempting to push one over.I caught my fall with a forearm, my eyes still closed.

I exhaled through my nose.

"And what reason could someone possibly have to greet a person, with a boot to the face? I doubt I have affronted someone yet so badly, so it's either bad social skills on your part..."

I looked up, there were three people standing above me, crowding me, instinctively blocking me off.

"...or maybe it's not even to do with me, but with you?"

A flinch, one stiffened. Bullies? I wonder why?

Don't stand up, keep them comfortable, unsuspecting. It they suspect nothing, they will release something I can use.

"Shut it Noseblind, we don't need your filth here! You don't belong here!"

The phrase 'Noseblind' confused me, until I remembered. Most Faunus referred to non-Faunus as 'Nose-blind', as they were unable to perceive the world of smells and scents and pheromone signals.

I had forgotten that was a thing. But on closer inspection, one was spouting horns, the one in front who kicked me seemed to have a tail. I couldn't see enough of the third guy to see any distinctive traits.

"Yeah yeah, go ahead, rub it in why don't you. It isn't enough that my senses are limited enough that I have to still myself completely to perceive half as much as you can, you just had to bring up my village you dick."

I wasn't paying attention to my mouth, I was looking at the three, taking their measure. The sun was behind them, so I couldn't see much. The horned guy, some kind of goat I think, was shorter, stockier. Lack of a superego, lack of care or restraint maybe? Likely used to using force directly. Simple enough, but often effective too. The main guy had his hands firmly in his pockets, enough to make them hard to draw. I'd guess he's good enough with his feet then, as he engaged physical contact. A martial artist, prehensile tail suggests good balance. An acrobat? The third guy was taller, but skinnier, balancing out the shorter guy. He was standing further away, hands also by his sides. Either unwilling to participate, or willing to let the others take the brunt of any violence I may bring. I could figure out more it I could see what kind of Faunus he was.

"What!?" The first guy hissed, angry, but I could sense the uncertainty behind it. I knew these thought patterns.

"My village. The place I grew up in. The place that was destroyed by Grimm, leaving only me to survive." I said, keeping up the lie.

I stood up. I was slightly taller then the main guy, enough to make him look up to me slightly.

"I literally crawled out from under the charred skeleton of my house, with nothing left of a thousand odd people but ash and bloody corpses! I had to crawl over my own father then! His body had been half eaten! I couldn't even find my mother!"

I was getting into character. I could even feel my eyes begin to water.

"I had to walk alone to the nearest village, and survive on my own! I was fucking seven!" I shouted, my voice actually wavering at the last part. I let the anger bleed away.

"So don't come to me to take out your own shit you lack the spine to deal with yourself. I've had my fare share of shit, count yourself lucky that you'll never know what that pain feels like!"

Hands at my throat. Pinning me against a tree, in my face.

I pissed him off. Oh boy.

"You know nothing! You're just another human! You don't know anything about what it's like to be Faunus!"

Ahh, thought so. It's a racism thing. Faunus suffering, cruel heartless humans.

I leaned in, staring into his eyes, my voice low, slow, almost a whisper.

"Prejudice works both ways..." I said, before straightening, and looking over the other two, emphasising the situation to them.

"...as evidenced. Do you really think yourself as exceptions, three on one? You woke up a sleeping person you don't even know with a kick to the head."

The lackeys looked cowed, and the taller one put a hand on the leaders shoulder, gently pulling away. He kept staring at me, but let himself be lead off.

I looked around. I had seemingly drawn a crowd. Team RWBY was there, as was

Cardin Winchester, and his team.

Not good.

What was his team again?

With the situation defused, they approached. Cardin, with the longest legs got to me first.

Shit he's a big guy, I had to actually look up to him physically. I hate that, gives me a sore neck.

"Hey, you good man? Not hurt are you? Did they do anything?" He asked. His voice was light and oddly concerned, which threw me. Generally he was always portrayed as possessing no redeeming qualities.

"No, nothing of note. Thanks." I said, waiving his concern aside.

"Good to hear man. Seriously, those filthy fucking animals need to be reminded on their place." He growled, his neck turning, fists audibly cracking.

I raised a hand

"No." I said, enough force to make even Cardin listen.

"What? But they..."

I cut him off.

"People do things for a reason, Mr..."

"Cardin Winchester." he completed. Now I can use his name.

I turned to him.

"People always have a reason. Particularly for bullying or harassment or other such behaviour, and the reason is always a fault within themselves." I said, gesturing but not turning, "They had a reason. Their conscious logic was flawed, but they had a reason. Retaliation or reaction will only validate such faults. We must prove ourselves better then that Cardin. They came to me out of anger at being unfairly persecuted for being Faunus. To validate their claims with actual persecution and violence would only make things worse, and make us lesser then them. Remember that Cardin Winchester."

"But they're animals!" He blurted.

My reply formed before I was aware.

"Well they aren't plants. We're all animals, just particularly smart ones. Good day."

And I turned and walked away. He didn't follow.

As I got to them, team RWBY swarmed me.

"Dude? You okay?"

"Don't try and worry about it, it wasn't you."

"It's okay Jason, you're fine."

"You handled it well, especially Cardin. I'm impressed."

I raised a hand, to silence them. That kind of attention and praise made me uncomfortable.

"I know, don't worry. I've dealt with this kind of stuff a lot before. It's fine."

The looks of worry didn't go away.

"Seriously, I'm good. What they did was nothing. Hell, I'll probably end up helping them deal with their issues soon."

"We...we heard about what happened to your home..." Yang said, an impressive amount of tact in her voice.

I was forced back a step as Ruby slammed into my waist, her arms wrapped forcefully around me, head buried in my chest.

I could hear her sobbing gently.

Oh no! I made Ruby cry. Shit. Now I feel horrible.

"I'm sorry to hear that Jason. If you want to talk about it..." Blake ventured.

I forced a smile, and rubbed my hand through Ruby's hair, comforting her.

"It's okay guys. I dealt with it a long time ago. I made peace with the fact, and accept it."

Ruby looked up at me, tears streaming down her face. Damn but that hurt, and I nearly actually cried, but I forced a smile, as warm as I could.

"It happened a long time ago. Really, I'm fine. You don't need to cry over it." I said, ruffling her hair.

"Damn." Yang said, whistling, "You're one hell of a guy, you know that."

I actually laughed. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

My mother always said stuff like that.

My mood soured. "But sorry Ruby, I won't be fighting you today. Tomorrow maybe?"

She nodded, "If you'd excuse me, I'm going to go back to my room. I'd just like a little bit of quiet."

I didn't wait to see their reactions or responses, I extracted myself from Ruby and walked straight to the elevator.

I pressed the button for my floor, beelined to my room, and collapsed on the bed.

I didn't loose my family to a Grimm attack.

Oh no no.

My story is much worse.

I sat in my room for the rest of the day and cried.


	14. A particularly sad Backstory

I didn't end up fighting Ruby the day after the incident. Or the day after that. It went all the way through to saturday before I got round to it.

So at one in the afternoon I retrieved my diving suit, and clumped my way to the arena. I had actually forgotten entirely about promising Ruby a fight with it, and only remembered when Ruby bought it up in desperation after waiting. She did not seem happy I had forgotten, and now I was running late to my own fight.

In all fairness though, running in this is rather hard.

Yang and Weiss greeted me outside the prep room.

"Well...that's a thing."

"You're late."

I attempted a shrug. I had to use my elbows, the shoulders couldn't move relative to the other stuff.

They paused, but I think they realised that I couldn't speak, and let me in. I had to twist to get through the door, but that was fine.

Ruby was also waiting in the arena. Blake was watching from the side. They were all in the arena, and I could hear Ruby's excited squealing from here.

Although, I'll admit, the look on her face as I entered the arena made it all worth it. She lit up, eyes wide, pupils dilated. I guess she also appreciated the suit, being a weapons freak. I spared a glance at Yang as she walked past and saw Ruby. Humorous acceptance, brilliant. That glance told me enough about how much Ruby geeks out over stuff.

Blake cleared her throat.

"The match will last for two minutes, and is melee weapons only. It will be discontinued if either Ruby's aura goes into the red or if Jason is injured or rendered unable to continue. Are you okay with that?"

Ruby nodded. I raised my hand in a thumbs up.

"You will begin on my signal. Five..."

Ruby got low, eyes staring straight at me. She was going to cross the distance directly, that's how she did it. Great fighter, but could telegraph her intentions less.

Granted, it wouldn't matter if she did it too fast for me. I got lower,

"Warning", I said, flicking the lights to yellow.

"Three..."

I raised the drill, and feathered the ignition, letting it roar. If Ruby lost confidence, it would help me fend off the opening strike.

"Two..."

I could feel my body begin to reject, in an attempt to make me flee. But the feeling was fleeting. I was armed with weapons that pulverised rock. I was armoured with plate so heavy it could crack the ground it walked on. I need not fear. The time of fear was over.

"One..."

I might even win, if I'm lucky.

"Begin!"

And Ruby was gone. The instant we began, she was sprinting.

She covered the distance before my heart could beat, the back of the scythe swinging round and slamming me to the side.

Her momentum carried her past, and she swung, but I backhanded my drill arm around, and Crescent Rose deflected off it at an odd angle.

I stepped forward to grab her, but she was moving back, the scythe smacking my arm away. The motors whined in pain at the force, as did my forearm.

I swung with the drill arm, and she moved again, spinning, the scythe in one hand.

It arced up, then down, and the tip slammed into my suit.

Well worn copper and bronze gave way to honed stalker steel, and Crescent Rose gouged halfway down the front of the suit, rupturing the light systems and damaging too many others to count. It even scratched the one piece I wore under it, but nothing touched me.

The image presented by the display was fuzzy, and the light from outside made it hard to see, but I could see Ruby had paused. She looked as if she was about to cry.

She thinks she killed me.

I grabbed the haft of the Scythe and rose up, slamming the drill into Ruby's stomach.

She cried out and stumbled back several paces. Before I could do anything else, there were people separating us, shouting.

It's over, walk away.

Right, that must have been quite a scare.

"Sorry!" I shouted, "I didn't hear you say stop! My bad!"

"Are you okay in there? Do we need to help you get out?" Yang said back, trying to peer inside.

"I'm okay. There's a lot of space in here. didn't even nick me."

I felt the tug as Yang pulled out Crescent Rose with a squeal of metal. More light flooded in.

"Is Ruby okay?"

"She's fine, one punch doesn't strip a full aura, particularly not a slow one like that."

"Right."

I walked over to where Ruby was standing.

"Sorry Ruby, I thought we were still going." I said. She seemed fine enough.

"Don't worry. Sorry for nearly killing you."

"Hah! You wish, you didn't even scratch me. Anyway, I need to get this thing back to the armoury, to get it repaired."

She nodded, and I decided to pat her on the back as I left.

* * *

I sat back in the library with the others after clumsily walking the suit to the Forge, and parking it in one of the smaller workshops. With being cut so much, several systems were damaged, making it even harder then normal to move. But move it I managed.

After profusely apologising to one another we sat down, and gradually began talking about the combat effectiveness of the suit. I had sort of known it would be useless against a fast moving heavy hitter like Ruby. What possessed me to accept to fight her with it eludes me. I remembered that I had intended to attach some kind of energy weapon, in the hopes it could counter such behaviour, but in a display of supreme error, I had forgotten to do so.

Grudgingly, I put aside the nearly completed musculature of my new suit, and worked on overhauling the dive suit. I had many plans, and I knew that I would spend most of sunday in the forges, making my suit able to withstand combat.

From there, we began talking about fighting. Something about technique and styles and where each of us in turn learnt to fight. Ruby and Yang, back in Patch, with Taiyang and Qrow mostly, but with some others on occasion. Friends, family friends, students.

I had known this already, but I did not expect their recount of Patch to be so heavily infested by Grimm. What I had thought was a peaceful island seemed more like wilderness. I guess it made sense then, why the two were so competent. Not only did they train under team STRQ, but they also lived in such an environment in their youth, and thought so little of it.

Weiss told a different story, of course. Hers was not the fight against the wilderness, but against civilisation. Having perfection expected of you at the very least. Surrounded by lesser people that you absolutely can't show any emotion or life around. And god forbid you upset any of their delicate ego's, or say something they don't agree with. Where others walked the gale of the wilds, fighting to not be blown away, she walked the frozen lifeless wastes of the upper classes.

I identified with that. I knew that life well.

Blake, of course, came up with a fabrication, or at least, failed to mention her time in the Fang. A story around her family, similar to Weiss' in an ironic fashion.

And then...

"So Jason, what about you?"

I felt a twitch in my spine, but I had prepared my story.

"I came from an isolated settlement, one that we called New Zealand. Honestly, it was isolated enough that I couldn't point it out to you on a map."

"Wow. Really?" Ruby said.

"That's pretty rare." Weiss added.

"Oh trust me, there's more. Anyway, I lived on the waters edge, a province called Blenlam. I did all the normal things, although I did go to a boarding school."

"Oh? What's that like?" Yang inquired.

"Eh, kinda weird. A lot like prison, but fun enough. But that's not the strangest thing. You see, we were weird. We didn't have Faunus, as in, none at all."

"Well that's not rare," Blake intergected, "That's quite common for a lot of smaller villages."

"Yeah, but not like, turning them away. We never knew any. The first time I saw a Faunus I thought it was a fashion statement."

That raised a few eyebrows, but I continued.

"But that wasn't the weird thing. We didn't have Huntsmen or Huntresses, and barely had a standing police force, that doubled as military. It was particularly small, and underfunded at that."

"Okay, how?" Yang asked.

"I don't know, but we never were attacked. Grimm were a fairy tale, to tell to kids who were bad. Don't upset people, because if you do, the Grimm will come. I guess, since everyone was happy and not being bad, that the Grimm didn't ever come close by."

I paused, for effect, before continuing.

"But then, as I got older, I noticed that people became less happy. People were more sensitive to things. A tiny change in tone would set someone off, that kind of thing. So I guess, people got jaded, became less happy, and that attracted Grimm."

I pause again, to breathe.

"So I wake up in the middle of the night, and smell smoke and copper. Everyone's screaming and running around, the school's burning, the building is falling apart, and there are these enormous, monstrous creatures of black ink and bone and horror incarnate tearing people to shreads. I heard a Beowolf howl, and actually pissed myself right then and there. I don't really remember much, I just crawled under a burning bed, stuck a cloth over my face, and curled up there, and tried to avoid listening to the cries for help, for someone to save them, and the sound of bones snapping, and meat tearing. I thought it couldn't get worse then that. But when it all died down, where there was no one left to cry out for help, that I think was the worst part. Being able to hear them prowl around, sniffing for a last morsel."

I paused again, to breathe. They looked shell shocked.

"Anyway, I blacked out, wake up the next day, and kinda dig out of the ash and such. The building is a big pile of ash, and the whole settlement is levelled. As in, flat. I admit, I lied the other day. I didn't see my parents, I just kinda knew, looking over where our house used to exist, that there was simply no way."

They were speechless.

"So yeah, I spent the next two days scavenging all I could, then I walked. I just walked as far as I could, until I found more people. I caught a lift to Vale, changed my name, bummed it for a while as I put it all behind me and dealt with it, then got accepted into Beacon under special conditions by Ozpin personally, and here I am."

"Dude..."

I glanced over. Yang said that, but she didn't seem to say more.

"I did what I had to, nothing more. Besides, it's behind me now."

"It's just...wow. I think you've won the shitty backstory competition."

"Language!" I admolished. Ruby, who looked honestly traumatised by my story perked up at that a little.

"But no, I reckon that you all had it worse then me. Yeah sure I had a _particularly_ horrifying few months," I said, "but you all grew up, and spent your entire lives in unpleasant conditions. Besides, I always wanted to explore the world. It's just I got forced into doing so earlier then I thought. So stop looking so sad for my sake." I said, chuckling."

It took a while, but I forced the conversation on, and gradually, everyone looked less shocked. I was proud of that story, it had so many parallels to what actually happened. My home was never razed by Grimm though. I was just carted off to a new universe.

We stayed and talked for a lot longer, before the social interaction wore me out, and I left, to go and fiddle with a diving suit from the Bioshock franchise.

Oh why is my life so strange?


	15. A Wheel begins to turn

I hadn't noticed how fast the time had passed until Ozpin called me into his office, once again, to talk. Having completely forgotten the inexible march of time, I was shocked to hear that the exchange students would be arriving the coming Saturday. The exchange students, where the Vytal festival occurs, and a city burns in the fires of betrayal, and drowns in the hordes of Grimm.

We had agreed that we would stop the fall of Vale and Beacon. Ozpin was already preparing and arranging for the eventual repair of the Cross continental transit system, in the event his three other plans to save from harm failed. He told me he had double checked the relic, and wanted to know how my work was coming along. I confess I was upset to say that I didn't have as much done as I wished, and I made a mental note to push myself harder, but I had nearly completed my suit of power armour, and had even begun to add the beginnings of my myriad weapons systems to it. Herphestus was working on the more complex sensory systems and coding, and doing a better job then I. The last great thing I had left to do was to attach the BCI.

I could have done this many ways. The first, the classic 'electrodes on the scalp' was easiest, but it required the loss of my hair, and if it was shaken around, would be my end.

The other two required either highly invasive brain surgery, where the top half of my skull is removed to stick the electrodes directly to my brain meat, or extensive surgery all over the body at regular intervals to implant plugs into my body.

It wouldn't be pretty, but I had to choose option B. It was the only rational one.

But, Ozpin soon revealed to me that he didn't call me up here to question me on preparations, but to make a request.

Not for any kind of new service.

He wanted me to acompany him to the Docks that saturday, and point out Cinder Fall and her associates.

"It's simple, I would like to see who it is who is going to kill me."

And I could hardly argue with that.

And so, I found myself, standing, looking out onto the ocean, next to a singularly ancient individual, chatting politely as we watched the hordes of students force their way out of the ships at berth, searching among them, for the few trained murderers.

And then I spotted them, or more accurately, her.

Medium height, my height, dark hair, bought over one eye.

A subtler difference, in the way she held herself, the way she walked. Not a hilt of awkwardness, every motion fluid and graceful, exhuding arrogant superiority and no small amount of cold sensuality. I felt my hands and jaw clench, and could hear the blood pulse in my ears. Watching her behind a screen was bad enough, but before me, it was all I could do to keep composure.

"You see her." Ozpin cut in, his voice weightless, almost amused at my reaction.

"Cinder Fall," I said, forcibly unclenching my jaw. "Amber eyes. Dark hair, pulled over an eye. Medium height, graceful. Moving past the third post from the boat...now."

"Ahh, I see her. So she kills me." He said, not a care in the world in his voice.

"Yes," I responded, before going to point out first Emerald, then Mercury.

"...and their final team member is a girl called Neo, she's a mute, short, and rather psychotic, with ability to back it up. She's working for Roman, who in turn, works for Cinder." I finished.

Ozpin turned to speak, but his hear snapped up at the faint sound of a man shouting.

"Hey, stop that Faunus!"

"Oh god, it's happening."

"Pardon?" Ozpin inquired.

"Sir, permission to leave?" I said, for a moment reverting back to old habit.

He raised an eyebrow, but smiled. "Go ahead mister Richards."

I nodded, and sprinted over. I was too busy looking to make sure I didn't trip, but I heard glimpses of conversation.

"No g... towaway."

"Hey! A...caug...'m a great stowaway!"

Despite sprinting, I snorted at that. I mean, technically he is right.

I slowed, beginning to loose breath, and jogged. I got to watch him evade the guards, scale the dock front, and sprint past team RWBY, and whilst I couldn't see it, I knew how he winked at Blake. And as he exited the proverbial stage right, I entered by stage left, breathing hard, to get oxygen into my blood.

"Well Weiss, You wanted to see the competition, aaand there it goes."

"Quick! We have to observe him!"

And just as I began to slow, they sped up.

My muscles upset at having to do more work then prmised, I pushed a last amount out to get up to speed with the three.

Blake was just standing there, and I overshot her before she took off.

"Hey guys. What was that?"

The four turned briefly, still running.

"Oh, hi Jason. Some no good stowaway just escaped off that way." Yang responded, gesturing with large amounts of theatrics.

I paused to think. "Well technically, if he was a 'No good' stowaway, he wouldn't have made it here. Wouldn't he have to be a fairly good stowaway?" I said, musing.

Weiss, for her part, fumed more, both Yang and Ruby chuckled, Blake smiled.

"That's what he said!" Ruby responded.

I chuckled myself, and then pulled back, tagging along, and watched as Weiss turned a corner, and heard a light "oof," as she collided with a girl that seemed to weigh too much for her volume.

I got around the corner and hung back, content to watch the whole Penny introduction play out.

"Aaarreee you okay?" Yang ventured.

"I'm wonderful! Thank you for asking." Came the response with great emotion, and I bit down a laugh. She couldn't be more artificial if she tried.

"Do you... wanna get up?"

"...Yes!"

She proceeded to flip herself to her feet, and every muscle in my body was clenched, to keep my face straight.

"I'm Penny! It's a pleasure to meat you!" She said, with too much motion and too wide eyes.

"Hi Penny. I'm Ruby."

"I'm Weiss."

"Blake."

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head?"

And slap.

"Thwack."

"...Oh, I'm Yang."

"And I'm Jason." I said, nodding.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You already said that."

"...So I did!"

"Well... sorry for running into you."

"Take care friend."

We turned away, and left. The others were talking about the weirdness of Penny. I was counting down the seconds in my head.

"What did you call me?"

I watched, a fist over my mouth as Yang and Weiss frantically apologised, and Penny, in all her asocial goodness, ignored them, in favour of Ruby.

They wispered to one another and Ruby looked over.

Blake, Weiss and Yang were all waving no. I decided to nod yes as fast as my neck would allow me.

"...Sure, why not?"

My head spun, as someone tolled a gong nearby, and turned back to see WBY collapsed on the ground in shock. I couldn't hold it back, and let out a snort.

And then Penny surprised me, and proceeded to recite some of Weiss' older lines about cute boys, except literally this time. I had forgotten that happened.

I sat back and just enjoyed the dialogue as they went, a subtle jibe at Ruby's coordination, a victory for combat skirts, the classic "I'm combat ready!" line.

Aaaand then Weiss went on her anti-faunus rant. Lovely.

I watched Blake seethe as she responded to Weiss' comments about the person who would turn out to be Sun Wukong. Whilst their argument was clunky from my memory of the episode, the discourse I witnessed was far less so.

I confess, I enjoyed it. Over my time at Beacon, I had come to prove myself above many of the other students, in terms of more academic and mental abilities, in not in combat. Witnessing two of my peers verbally spar over a clearly emotional topic with such grace and finesse a they put into their combat, far outclassing my own spontaneous abilities, was humbling, and a well appreciated check to my ego.

The flight back to Beacon was tense, and silent, but as we arrived back to team RWBY's dorm, the debate grew even more heated, as the soundproofed walls allowed suppressed bitter feelings and opinions to be bought forth. I contented myself with leaning against the doorframe, not blocking the exit, crossing my arms, and watching with a neutral expression. The debate blew into a full on interchange of speaches, and I was impressed even further with the sheer oratory skill both Blake and Weiss displayed. Weiss however, blew Blake out of the water, as she recounted her own childhood, making the other three realise that it wasn't as perfect as they thought. Weiss was a model of composure at all costs, and the effect that it had, as cracks of raw emotion began to form in that facade, was potent. I bit down on a laugh, as Weiss recounted the story of the Dust train that Blake stole, but the mirth faded.

Weiss turned to face Blake. All composure, gone. All sense of mathematical opinion, gone. Nothing but unbottled, raw emotions, that cut into Blake, giving Weiss power.

I knew what was going to happen, and I watched Blake's eyes flash.

"Well maybe we were just tired of being pushed around!"

I watched, face unchanging, as Weiss staggered back, strength gone, eyes wide, as Blake realised what she had just done. She turned to Ruby, who looked at her with the same shocked expression that she found of Weiss.

"I. I..." And in a blur, she was past me and out the door, sprinting down the dimly lit hall.

Ruby shouted, begging her to return, but it was too late, and she was gone, vanishing into the shadows.

I turned back. Yang was confused, wondering what she just witnessed.

Ruby was distraught.

Weiss was outraged.

I weighed up the options in my head, and made a choice.

I looked around the room, between the three, and allowed surprise to show on my face.

A raised eyebrow. An incredulous note to my voice. Forceful, but not loud. Short and stern.

"Wait. You didn't already figure that out?"


	16. A sizable Plot twist

Three pairs of eyes darted around to face me, shock and confusion written across them.

"Wait. How were we supposed to figure it out exactly?" Yang enquired.

"How did you figure it out?" Weiss demanded.

"Well, the cat ears for one."

"What cat ears?" Yang began. Oh god, she was going to say the thing.

"She wears...a...bow." She trailed off, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yes, a bow that twitches when she gets agitated. Now, so she's keeping a secret identity. And that's not easy. So she would need a good reason to do so. Now Blake is well known to be quite sensible, balanced, rational and quiet for her age. This is induced by enduring high levels of stress essentially. Now, bear in mind, she isn't covering her face, but her ears. Therefore, we can safely deduce she is aiming to hide not herself, but her nature as faunus. Did she smell strange at all?"

Weiss flinched, but shook her head, Ruby and Yang following suit. Flinched? Surprise at being questioned?

"Right, anyway, so Blake is rational, therefore, whatever she was trying to leave behind must have been illicit or criminal, she wouldn't feel the need to go to such lengths otherwise. This is Vale, it's a relatively progressive place, and most faunus are proud to be faunus. So we know she had a stressful past, likely illicit or criminal, that she avoids talking about, and is based around her being a faunus. I put that with what I knew of Blake, and what I knew of criminal organisations based around faunus, and assumed White fang."

Ruby was lost, Yang was kinda nodding away, trekking through my poorly delivered logic path.

Weiss was pissed.

"And why then, did you not tell anyone this? Surely you had responsibilities!"

"I understood, but I also knew that I couldn't reliably say she was. And if I had come to that conclusion from a twitchy bow, Ozpin likely reached it far earlier, with her case file. Also, Blake has consistently proven her merit and value, and I don't like to judge on pasts. Besides, we all have our skeletons. No need to go digging them up."

I left them to talk themselves, and retreated to my room. I mused about going out to catch Blake. I knew exactly where she was, jump out the window, turn the corner, she'd be right there. But I forced myself to stop. She needed to develop normally, and if I interfered, she would never meet with the person who would turn out to be Sun Wukong.

No. I wouldn't interfere, at least not now.

Maybe tomorrow?

I busied myself with plans of what I could do the next day. The whole sequence will culminate in a battle at the docks.

What could I do?

I could track the Bullhead that takes off with Torchwick?

No. Any tracker would be too obvious, and anything subtle would require getting inside the thing. Besides, it's irrelevant. The closest thing they have to a base is Mt Glenn and Beacon. Besides, it doesn't really matter in the end.

I let myself drift of too sleep, thinking about what I could do. Something about securing the dust?

The next day, I reconvened with the other three and followed them in their search for Blake. I knew for a fact that we would not find her until Torchwick shoots at her with his unusually loud weapon for a criminal, so I spent the time observing he other three, gleaning information from them.

Yang would go door to door, asking people if they had seen anyone matching Blake's description. Social, practical, many observations make light work. But most people don't really know who they see.

Ruby was on lookout, her eyes darting between people in the crowd who had similar traits to Blake.

Weiss seemed unfazed, and would glance over a crowd, and would admonish Ruby if she spent too long looking with annoyed reprimands. Either she had impressively good crowd observational skills, which was likely, or she was still bitter at the revelation, also likely.

I excused myself and went off on my own. It took a bit of searching, but I found a weapons store that hadn't been hit in a raid, and went inside. I had several assorted weapons, but it had occurred to me that none of them were anything close to being easily carried. Ruby could compact Crescent Rose, which was already oddly lightweight, down into a box form to sit on her hips. Weiss could easily carry Myrtenaster on her belt, considering how light it was. Blake could also clip her stuff to her waist and Yang wore hers as Bracelets. I would have to clip my tower shield and sword over my back, and the sheer size would be huge, and that's discounting the ammunition hopper.

I strolled over to the pistol selection and glanced over my options. The selection here in town was considerably less flashy, and lacked the characteristic diversity that I was so used to. Had I not known better, I might have guessed that this was a standard gun store on earth, if I ignored the dust cabinet and some other more fantastic items.

I settled on a pistol. Nothing pretty, it was a blocky black thing, .22 calibre, seventeen round magazine, capable of firing dust rounds. I didn't buy dust rounds. I bought a box of seventy rounds, and the store owner threw in a set of spare magazines free of charge. All the identification needed was to show him my Beacon I.D, and no further questions were asked.

I grabbed a quick bite to eat, and then wandered over to a shooting range, where I payed a temporary entry fee, and, with the aid of an older patron, focused the sights on my pistol and burnt through thirty two rounds practicing before I clocked out and made my way over to the docks. The sun was getting lower and I thought I may as well get over there. If I was lucky, I might be able to drop in on Blake and Sun.

Out ninja the ninjas. Great plan.

I rolled my shoulders as I got closer. I didn't see anyone yet. Could I be early? I hung back to a less conspicuous corner by a building, and watched. I leant against the building, hand around the grip of my gun, safety very much on and finger very much away from trigger, and waited.

The light faded, and with it, the cool draft of an open body of water washed over me. I rolled my shoulders, acutely aware of my lack of warmer gear.

No one was arriving.

I took a chance and descend down into the levels of the cargo containers. Vale was one of the four most major sources of trade and communication on remnant, and it's port happily lived up to that. Cargo crates were everywhere, and I moved between them, checking over logos and identity logs and as much information as I could gather. It wasn't much. I knew however, that this was definitely the wrong area. No big open battle spaces, and too few of the crates had the distinct snowflake logo I was looking for. This gave me two options, go left or right.

I spun, eyes flashing open as something boomed and cracked. A pillar of soot was rising roughly half a kilometre to my left.

Roman. Melodic Cudgel. The most conspicuous weapon a thief ever owned. I guess it was left then.

I took off at a sprint, and then slowed to a jog. Didn't want to wind myself before arriving, that would be a bad idea. I was half a kilometre out, Ruby was twice that distance. Accounting for her speed and outlandish cardio, we should arrive at roughly the same time, but for the sake of my pride as an ex-sprinter, I pushed out a fraction more speed from my legs. The Battle was closer now, and I was surprised. I wasn't nearly as tired as I thought I would be. I guess the gruelling training was paying off then.

I got a hundred metres out, and slowed, panting hard to catch my breath and to get oxygen back. I took the pistol, and walking quietly, I flicked it off safety to single fire, and braced it with my other hand.

There was nothing I could have done to fight. The grunts didn't have Aura, and if I shot them, I could kill them. A pistol is not an accurate thing, to use one, you need to be right up close, within twenty metres. Considering the engagement for rifles is measurable in kilometres, that is not very pleasant, and meant I would need to stick around the crates and take my chances at close quarters. Hooray for planning.

I could hear Ruby speaking, and then another explosion, and then I watched as Penny went to work.

Her blades spun in increasingly complex patterns, and I marvelled at how, despite the speed and the complexity and the nature of the motions, Penny was not harming anyone grievously. Instead of sawing through meat and bone, she was doing all that, and taking extra care to strike with the flat of the blade, slow enough and at the right angle to prevent mulching them. I confess, my jaw dropped.

If Penny can fight like that, and Pyrrha can best her, then she must have been holding back on me.

I swallowed the dent to my ego and moved on. Several crates were in the process of being tied up to be taken, and each crate I saw with straps or ropes I undid. Might count for little, but it's one less container they could steal on the way out.

Person.

I ducked back around a corner and reviewed the glimpse. Yep, Fang. I strained my ears and past the sounds of Armageddon I could make out footsteps. They were getting closer. Five metres, four, three, two.

A gun barrel poked its way around the corner and I launched out, grabbing it with my left hand and yanking forwards. The man yelped and scrambled to get back control, firing accidentally, making the gun buck in my grip, the barrel warm.

I continued the motion and twisted hard, dragging him past me and rolling over his sholder. I spun back to face him as he stumbled forward, raised my pistol to centre mass, then paused a heartbeat, shifted my aim lower and pulled the trigger.

The man roared, litterally roared in pain as the bullet tore into his right calf muscle. It was the least risky way to put him down, without risking him getting up, or fatally wounding him.

Another. Corner of container.

He raised his gun to fire and I ducked low, and pushed off the nearby container, throwing myself left. His fire went over me, but came far too close, and I fired repeatedly at him until he ducked back behind the crate.

I paused, then sprinted around the other way to get behind him.

I turned around one corner and collided with him, head cracking hard against his. We both stumbled back, but I knew this kind of feeling well. I kicked forwards, vision still swimming, and tackled him, no her, around the waist. We glanced the crate, and then slammed into the concrete.

I put a knee over her wrist and wrenched the rifle from her, head throbbing, eyes blurry. I staggered as her other arm hooked around and buried itself into my kidney. I shifted a knee onto her bicep, pinning her clawing hands, before bringing the rifle butt hard across her jaw with a crack. She stopped scrabbling.

I wound up for another, but I forced myself to stop after five whole seconds of wrestling myself back, and stood up, before rolling her into the recovery position and making sure her airways were open.

I stood up, to watch the last Bullhead, containing the single most distinctive criminal every, take off and bug out.

Police had arrived, and were processing through all the people who didn't make it out. Team RWBY were seated on a few boxes, together, bar Weiss and Yang. I wandered over and met up with them, and sat down. We all were too tired really to make small talk. Besides, such a fight take some getting used to.

And then Weiss and Yang were walking over, and suddenly the tiredness slipped away.

"LookWeissit'snotwhatyou'dthinksheexplainedthewholethingyouseeshedoesn'tactuallywearabowshehaskittyearsandthey'reactuallykindacute..." Ruby began, but Weiss moved past her.

She stopped before Blake, expression stern.

"Weiss. I want you to know that I am no longer associated with the White Fang. back when I was with them..."

"Stop."

One word, quiet. But she stopped.

"I don't care."

Hmm, wait a minute.

"I don't care that you used to be in the White Fang, you aren't now."

That's odd.

"I don't care that you're a Faunus either, if you think that I do because of my last name."

She doesn't say this in cannon. This isn't good.

"Because at the end of the day, you're Blake...my...teemmate."

I was watching intently now. Weiss was far more emotional then she should have been. Easily as emotional as her recount of her childhood.

That's not boding well.

"I don't care."

I could almost hear her knuckles crack, and feel her jaw lock.

"I don't...care."

Her voice was wavering. Her eyes...

She was nearly crying! Beginning to shiver as well, as her body tensed.

"I...I..."

And before I could blink, she was darting past me, her platform heels clacking loud and fast on stone.

She was gone.

She wasn't meant to do that.

Sure, everything else I had seen could easily be played off as simply not shown in the plot, but this was definite proof.

This was definitely not cannon.

This, changes, everything.


	17. A Secret Found

I watched her run away to an alley, and shot up, spinning.

" _Get back to Beacon. I'll deal with this."_ I ordered with as much authority and decisiveness as I could. This was an aberrancy, and I would solve it with minimal backlash.

I turned and began running, my heart beginning to strain again as I forced my body to exert itself with too little respite for comfort.

My knees and ankles were hot, sore. My mouth was burning hot, and tasted of salt and blood.

Weiss was getting away.

I would not loose her in Vale! I would not! My gruelling exercise regime that made my life hell was not for nothing.

She was sitting at a comfortable eighty metres out, darting and weaving around alleyways and roads, and I would briefly loose sight of her, and be forced to visualise her actions to not loose her trail. Weiss was good, but she couldn't make the distance to make me loose her.

But damn she could run. I couldn't turn my head away to look, but I guessed we easily made it a kilometre away from the docks, if not from birds eye then by paces. Weiss had sprinted into a complex system of back passages and dimly lit alleys, and only my abilities to follow her thoughts and footsteps, and my own locational awareness and ability to run through obstacles let me keep her trail.

But it wasn't good enough. My lungs were raw and burning, and Weiss showed no sign of slowing. In a last desperate effort, I mustered all the power of my years of vocal training, and forsook the demands of my muscles to breathe in deeply.

" _Weiss!"_ I shouted, with all the force I had left, and I saw her white, almost luminous figure turn back.

" _Stop! (wheeze) Running!"_

She stopped. Good.

I promptly stopped, hands on knees, puffing hard. Sure I was fitter then I had ever been in my life, but I hadn't jogged that kilometre, I had basically sprinted half that.

"Weiss. Why?"

She didn't answer for a whole twenty seconds, and I almost thought that I had found an elaborate decoy before a quiet, _agonised_ voice drifted through the cold night air to me."

"You're not. The only one. With secrets."

I sucked in a lung of air, and straightened.

"I believe, that we both knew that."

"...Yeah."

"I mean, no one dresses up in a camouflaged jump suit, barefoot, with a knife, in the middle of the night to go running, do they?"

"No."

That's good. She's talking. Grief and stress breakdowns are hard, agonisingly hard. My girlfriend, whom I'll never see again now, had them all the time. All you could really hope to do was hold them close and tell then it will be alright until they stopped screaming and crying. But I couldn't do that with Weiss. All I could do was talk.

And with Weiss as she is now, that's like a bomb defusal.

I let a pause go through.

"Soo, feel like sharing that big heavy secret."

She didn't reply. She was in shadow, I couldn't see her face, just barely her form.

"Weiss, you remember what I told you. Big secrets can torture and kill as bad as anything else. Please, take the weight off, and let yourself vent." I said, stepping closer as subtly as I could. Hugging isn't just a gesture. It has a notable psychological effect of comfort and support, and was the best weapon I had in this proverbial battle.

"No."

Okay, if she's saying no, then it must be really major to her. Especially the secrecy.

Pressing it would just hurt her and make the proverbial bomb blow up.

"Don't come any closer!"

"Alright." I said, casually as I could, taking a step back and leaning against the wall, back flat, facing out, ninety degrees to Weiss, so she didn't feel trapped.

"... I guess I'll just have to guess then. You're in a cult?"

"Wha? No!" I heard her splutter.

Confusion and bewildered outrage well over the sadness. She wasn't in a cult. I could be pretty sure.

"Uhh, serial killer?"

"No!"

"Some kind of ninja?"

"No!"

I thought briefly about asking if she was also a member of the White Fang, but that would push it too hard.

"...Okay, I've got nothing. What is it?"

The clack of heels against stone echoed loud, and she slowly walked forward. The moonlight played across her features, and I winced at the sheer level of torment her expression suggested.

She was crying, but her face was numb to expression. Only the rise and fall of her shoulders turned calm into torture.

I stood up, and opened my arms, feet, rooted.

It took her a good minute to cross the five metre gap, but she did, and I got to hug her. I felt her fold and loose all strength.

That's it Weiss. Feel the calm and the release and relaxation.

She shifted, and I became aware of how oddly bony her back was, as the nubs of her shoulderblades jabbed into my wrists. That did most certainly not feel normal, and I moved a hand to run gently over her upper back.

She flinched, and grew rigid in my arms. She pushed away, and when I saw it, her face was one of near animalistic terror.

Did her secret involve her back then?

I shifted my posture to be as open as I could, and cursed the fact she had to look up to my face.

"Weiss. Tell me."

She inhaled, and warred with herself. I gently tried to persuade her with statements every so often like "You know I won't care." "You know I've probably heard far worse." and "Come on, just say it. I have never spread a secret in my life."

"Stop."

I stopped. And she breathed in and out, steading herself.

She straightened, walked a step closer, inhaled deeply through her nose.

"I, am a Faunus."

I actually honestly paused, all sense of careful image gone, before I slumped to my knees, facing a wall, arms raised.

"How the fuck did I not get that!?"

She actually took a step back, although I did not know if it was surprise or the intensity of my words.

"P-pardon?"

"That makes so much sense! The discipline, the secret 'runs', being able to scan a crowd so fast. Plus the balance and a host of other things. I mean, I figured out Blake was ex-White Fang from a bow! How did I not figure that out?"

Weiss for her part, didn't say anything. Likely to confused, and a part of my brain ventured that if she was confused, she wasn't distraught anymore.

"Although, I have to say, I'm dissapointed Weiss." I said, rising.

Emotions warred on her face.

"All you had been doing led me to believe this secret was something greater, like a doomsday cult or being a robot or something. I mean, I guess in Atlas, especially among the more political areas, it might be more major, but this is Vale. Aside from, like, Cardin, very few people give much of a shit."

She spluttered, but didn't say anything. She just huffed. I guess that means she feels more like her normal self?

"Anyway, lets go back to Beacon. Night is falling and I'm getting a bit chilly in this."

I turned, and waved her to follow. After a few seconds, she did.

The Bullhead ride was, unusual, but I acompanied her all through the trip from the landing pad, through the dark, sleeping giant that was the school. Into the entrance, then the elevator, along the hallways, and finally, to the end wing that held the dorm of team RWBY.

I knocked, and Yang opened the door, and quickly ushered us inside. The room was brightly lit and all three were awake, waiting.

Blake and Yang gave Weiss space. Ruby however latched onto Weiss at the waist and didn't let go, talking quickly about how worried she was. Yang gently pried her off Weiss, and got her to sit down.

"Anyway. Ladies. Weiss has something that she needs to tell you."

Weiss shot around, eyes wide.

"They are your team, even more then I am. They are there for you, even more then I am. They should know. They will not judge you, or think ill of you, or change their view on your worth as Weiss Schnee in any significant fashion because of it. Remember, it's hardly a significant secret. Particularly in comparison to Blake, and everyone was fine with that." I spoke, staring pointedly at her teemmates. Oh they would be fine, it was their initial reactions I was worried about.

I stepped back, and prepaired to block the door, as Ruby, Blake and Yang turned to look at Weiss.

"I-I-I." She swallowed, chest shuddering.

"I-I I'm."

She was twitching rather hard. Yand and Blake looked concerned. Ruby was trying to be supportive and encourage her, and I felt impressed they were being this mature through all this.

"I-I'm a..."

Although she did not look comfordable. She looked like she was about to collapse.

"I'm a...I'm a...a..."

Her head rolled back, and I watched as her knees bent, and she slumped, slowly toppling over.

Yang kicked out of her seat, but I had already pushed forward and caught her fall, laying her on the ground.

Blake and Ruby were on their feet as well.

"I'm a...what?" Blake ventured, hesitant.

I looked up at her.

"A Faunus. Weiss Schnee is a Faunus."

The reaction was hilarious. despite their differences, they all did the same thing.

Eyebrow raised, head tilted.

"...What?"

And then...

"Are you kidding?"

Okay, that's pretty understandable.

"No, I'm not kidding. Help me get her onto a bed."

We rolled her onto a bed, and then, at Blake's instruction, into a recovery position.

"Okay." Yang ventured, breaking the silence. "I know it's mean, but isn't that one of the most ironic things you've ever heard of?"

Blake glared at Yang. We likely all thought it, but that was inappropriate.

"I still can't believe it." Blake said.

"I know, it is surprising..."

"No not that. How she could be so...hypocritical."

"What do you mean?" I ventured, with a good idea what she meant.

"With how she acts around and about Faunus. She's so demeaning to Faunus, offensive by nature. How could she be that if she was one? Why would you lie so much about your feelings, just to do what? Be offensive? It doesn't make sense."

I had been thinking much the same.

"I have an idea."

They turned.

"She wasn't lying about how she felt about Faunus."

Shock, this time, Ruby spoke next, so quietly it would be overwhelmed by a breeze.

"But, what about herself? Did she also think she was..."

"Likely, yes. Remember what she said yesterday. About her upbringing. She grew up in the Schnee Palace. Trapped and paraded like a caged songbird, her only sources of parent figures her distant tutors, or her equally distant mother, or Jacques Schnee, the person who gave the Schnee name it's reputation. Growing up under that much dogma and with that little amount of emotional development, I can see very easily how she would learn at a young age to loathe her very nature. In all honesty, she probably thinks of herself as a monster."

Ruby for her part, was about to cry, and Yang turned to hug her. But before I could continue, she spoke up.

"But wait. If she was a Faunus, then how did you not tell that Blake? Shouldn't you have smelled her scent at least once and noticed she wasn't human?"

"It really isn't that easy Yang. Sure I can, but there are ways of lessening the scent production someone gives off. For example, if she washes a great deal, used a lot of perfume. Besides, I don't go sniffing around others like some dog. Do you?"

"But Weiss doesn't wear much perfume."

"Sniff her. What sent does she give off?" I asked. I had an idea.

Blake grudgingly bent over the prone form, and breathed deeply.

"What does she smell like?"

Blake straightened. '"Chemicals. Some particulate she might have gotten on her wandering around Vale, but mostly chemicals. I actually can't smell, much of anything organic on her."

"Could she be using some kind of drug or chemical to block her scent?"

"Maybe. I have heard of such things, but never actually being used. And never regularly enough as this."

So there are such things.

"Yang, check her stuff if you would. If she is taking things to stop her releasing a scent, then they can't be healthy."

"No, they very much aren't." Blake confirmed.

Yang began carefully going through Weiss' stuff, careful to venture around some of her more private and personal trinkits, but to not miss anything.

"Blake, can you help me get her jacket off? I want to check her back."

"Why?"

"I felt her back, it didn't feel right. Besides, she never has her back exposed. I think we probably should check it."

She nodded, and we gently teased the jacket off her, careful not to rouse her, and then, slowly pulled her shirt off.

Blake gasped, eyes wide, ears flat, as she saw the revealed skin. I moved around for a look.

At least half the skin on her back was covered in matted layers of scar tissue, all centred around two raised lumps on her back. The skin was stretched, and in parts, white feathers were erupting unevenly from the skin where the skin was pulled enough for the feathers to force their way through. Parts were scabby and encrusted with blood. Other parts, especially around the feathers were wet with a thin pale transparent liquid that matted her feathers against her skin.

The mass of ridged knotted scar tissue and crumpled wet feathers was hideous, and I felt my face flush, and stomach churn. Blake, despite her past, fared little better then I did. Ruby saw the mess, and had to be comforted by Yang, tearing up and clammy, whilst Yang stopped herself from getting more then a glimpse. Understandable reactions, it was a hideous thing to look at, and I could barely believe that such a thing could exist on Weiss.

I turned to Blake.

"This needs medical attention."

"You good to carry her?"

"Yes."

"Yang. Ruby. Keep looking for stuff." Blake said. "If she has anything, we need to know. We'll take her down to medical."

I pushed my hands under her body and gently rolled her onto my arms, before I eased her off the bed, bridal style. Blake opened the door, and I took my time to make sure I didn't do anything stupid like bang her head. I knew I tended to do that.

It was a slow process, but we got down there. The nightshift nurse took one look at Weiss, and promptly began calling people down. She told us that they would do a primary minor surgery to properly free the ingrown feathers and to clean some of the tears in her skin and check for infections, and run a blood test by her. Then, in the morning, they would reconvene to perform a full surgery on Weiss, to fully rectify her condition.

I thanked her, and told her to make sure no one knows of this. She nodded, and informed us that she would make sure Weiss was given a private bed.

We thanked her, and waited until the first person came in, before we left.

I didn't even take my shoes off. With the long few days I'd had, I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.


	18. A New Day

The next day, we all woke up early, and visited Weiss. I hadn't gotten anything close to the amount of sleep I wanted, and everything hurt. We talked on the way down.

"Oh Jason. We hadn't told you, but we found some stuff."

"Oh? Like what?"

"A fireproofed bag at the bottom of all her stuff. It contained a series of pill bottles, and a knife. Blake took a look at the drugs. She's pretty sure they're scent suppressers."

"Do you have any of it with you?"

"Yeah. We also have the knife. Thought you might want to see it."

She handed me the same knife Weiss carried when I had run into her. I took it, and rolled it around in my hand. Now that I used it, I noticed that it was too heavy for Weiss. A short triangular blade with a wide base, and seemingly a razor edge. This must weight nearly as much as Myanester, and had the wrong kind of grip for battle. This thing would sheer through flesh and maybe even bone with it's weight.

"I saw Weiss with this before once. She was sneaking back inside at five thirty in the morning. I'd guess that she's been going out every so often to...perform the process, in Forever Fall."

The other three nodded, grimacing.

"You didn't think to tell us?" Blake said. Understandable. She'd been going out at night to self-mutilate.

"No. It was as I said to the others when you yourself ran off. We all have secrets, no need to go digging them up."

"Except this time there was." Yang chimed in.

"Yes." I said, grimly. Nothing I could say to that. That was my error entirely.

When we found her, Weiss was awake, in a surgical gown. She was lying face down, as to not complicate her back. I was just thankful that the Doctors had decided not to remove her pants. Ruby bolted immediately to her side, speaking faster then even I could follow words of support and sadness into her ears. Ruby was a particularly empathetic girl, and I knew exactly what that feels like. But unlike me, she couldn't hide behind a layer of bitterness. She felt everything, and had nothing to shield herself with.

I stopped trying to pay attention to what was being said, and instead looked at her back. I felt myself flush, but the injury looked far better. It was ordered, and drained and clean. It was controlled, and I found I could look at it more easily.

"So, Weiss. How do you feel?" I heard Yang venture.

"Betrayed." She said, more ire in her voice then usual. Yang tried to step in, but I cut her off. If Weiss was to think ill of anyone, it would be me.

"We were going to keep it secret, until we found the extensive damage done to your body Weiss. The secret was nothing, but you had been performing extreme self-mutilation over a long period of time. You required medical treatment, and will likely be put through psychological treatment. However, I know that it will likely be unnecessary. If I know anything about you, it's that you are good at coping with stress."

She snorted at that, and turned her head back into her pillow.

A person pushed through the curtain. He was younger, and spouted a small pair of antlers on a long, spectacled face.

"Who are you? What are you doing in here? This is a private matter, and not to be disclosed."

"We're her team members, we already know."

He raised his eyebrow, looking to each of us.

"I'm an Auxiliary member. Also involved."

He nodded and sighed.

"The surgery went without complications, Miss Schnee. Several inscisions were made into your back to remove and aerate ingrown feathers and drain built up fluids, which was likely what caused the main discomfort for you. Blood tests came back. Minor amount of Cytokines, which were caused by tissue death, but nothing moderately intensive aura projection cannot cure. I wager that your own Aura likely was healing your back, preventing any greater buildup. There were a few areas with signs of minor infections, but likely your Aura and immune system fought those off also."

I listened, fascinated as he went on. I knew a fair bit of this, being a medical nerd. Cytokines, if memory served, were caused by the breakdown of cells as they lost oxygen. They caused ventricular inflamation, and were the main reason limbs with dead tissue needed to be amputated, to prevent the cytokine saturated blood from entering the heart and causing a Cardiac Arrest.

"Now. Our blood scans also picked up a number of foreign chemical compounds in your body. Ones that are not naturally forming. Are you taking any drugs, or medication?"

She cringed, but nodded.

"I see." He began, cautious but kind. "Can you tell us what you were taking?"

"We have some of the medication she was taking with us." I said, and Yang proffered the bag.

"Excellent, leave them with us if you would, it would make this easier."

Yang nodded, and offered him the bag.

"Thank you. I'll leave you alone. Let you get some privacy."

He excused himself, and no sooner then he left did Blake speak up.

"What were you taking?"

Weiss stiffened, and made no move to turn

"What were you taking Weiss?" She continued, and this time Weiss moved her head around.

"Vicodin, Dimethylprotohexanamide's, Cyanectodin, Betadine, Ibuprofen..." She said in a hollow voice, rattling off by memory. I didn't know what a few of them were, but Judging from Blake, they weren't very good. She mentioned that scent suppressants were a thing, but with what she indicated, and what I knew of perspiration, preventing that process would be incredibly unhealthy.

"Wha...why!?" Blake blurted, shocked beyond belief. The list was disturbingly long. If Weiss didn't have Aura, she would have died years ago I'd imagine.

Weiss didn't respond, which only angered Blake.

"Why? Why? Why would you do all that? To yourself? Why? What made you so...so hateful to yourself? To your nature?" Blake spat out, struggling to articulate her feelings. She began, but stopped as Weiss spoke in a quiet voice that wasn't quite hers.

"And yet, among those the Maidens put on this world, there were those who were deemed lesser then us. In righteous punishment...Oum cursed them...cursed them to bear the traits of animals on their bodies, to reflect their nature as naught but beasts within. Remember Weiss, these traits must be expunged. We must remove these animalistic aspects from us Weiss, that our perfect nature will not be soiled by that of common animals. Removed, like a cancer."

I looked up. Blake was revolted, and I felt my soul go out to her. This was not easy to bear. Ruby was hit the worst, and was tearing up. Yang scooped her up, and held her, comforting her to the best of her ability.

"...So don't be afraid little one. See? I am not going to harm you, I'm saving you. I'm saving you Weiss, from these bestial aspects that Oum delivered onto you. Stop Weiss, please. Stop, stop struggling. It will all be over in a moment."

Well. Shit. I looked to Blake, who looked back at me. She was mortified, hand over her mouth. I didn't know what I looked like.

"That was what my father said to me, just a few moments before he cut my wings off for the first time. I was three, but I still remember that day like it was yesterday. Ever since then, he never once showed anything approaching pride or affection. It was just test after test, challenge after challenge, getting harder and harder, more and more dangerous. He would test his companies new robot creations against me. It took me a while to realise that he was trying to kill me, or that he did not care if I lived. My wings kept growing back, every month or so. By the time I was eight, I was able to cut them myself. I grew up under that. It took me until I came here to realise that that might not be the full truth. You must understand, growing up in the Schnee Palace is not an easy thing."

The Doctor poked his head in again.

"Might I have a word, I need to discuss some things with team RWBY. Unfortunately, policy forbids me to talk about it to anyone not in direct interaction with the patient, which includes Auxilia. Sorry."

I nodded, and shrugged. If I had to guess, he was likely going to brief them on how long Weiss would be staying, or would be briefing them on exactly what Weiss had been taking and how to act. I could guess the former, which would likely be a second major surgery, to remove some of the masses of scar tissue and then several Aura based procedures to correct and replace tissue, over the day, and then appointments every few days. The latter, I already knew.

" _In the sea without boarders, here lieth the Bird of Hermes, eating her own wings to make herself tame, and make herself yet full stable. When all her feathers be from her gone, she standeth here as a stone. Here is now both White and Red, and so all the stone to quicken the dead. All and some without fable. Both hard and soft and malleable. Understand now well and right. And, thank you god for this sight."_

I spoke the last section with bitter sarcasm.

"What verse is that from?"

"Oh, it's 'The Bird of Hermes' from, the Ripley scroll, I think? I paraphrased it a little, I thought it was appropriate."

"Right." Weiss said sceptically, and turned her head into the pillow.

"Weiss. I didn't tell you this, but before I wound up in Vale, I spent a while traveling between places. I went to a huge amount of settlements, villages and places of all different walks of life and culture. And do you know the one religious trait that they all shared?"

I paused, but the question was rhetorical.

"Every single one of their religions featured winged people. Wings, in an innate psychological sense, symbolise freedom, ascension, and with that, power and ability, ability to do things that no one else could do. Of the countless places I went through, all had the same cultural meme of a winged person. And of all of those cultures, only one looked at that image as bad. Did you know that?"

She slowly shook her head.

"Promise me Weiss. Promise me that from now on, you will never use this knife on yourself again."

"I...I promise."

"Good, now get some rest. Get better, stop taking drugs and live up to your true nature with pride. You were blind to the truth, but now you see. Never forget it."

"I won't. Thank you."

I nodded, and left.

I had missed breakfast, and the first class, and spent the day explaining where team RWBY was to each teacher. I made notes on everything I could, to share out back to the others, but my mind was elsewhere. What symptoms would Weiss go through? Withdrawal symptoms? Loss of bodily kinaesthesia? And even then, eventually, assuming her wings would grow back, she would eventually have to reveal it. How would she be treated? By Cardin and his group? Or by the Faunus at the school who knew her only as a Schnee? Would she be in danger? Yes. How to go about protecting her? We would need to keep a close eye out? How long would it take? Would I need to bring Ozpin into this?

I met up briefly with team RWBY, and they filled me in on what would happen with Weiss. She was spending the rest of the day in the medical wing undergoing surgery and Aura transferral. She would be put under detox, and would have to spend the night in there again. I thanked them for telling me, and mentioned about what would happen when Weiss grew her wings back.

"We'll deal with it as it comes." Was the consensus that Yang put forth, and we all agreed on. I excused myself then, and went off to my room, which I didn't leave for the rest of the day.


	19. Interlude

**Just to be clear, this is not a new chapter, alright.**

Alright, I just burst out nearly seven thousand words over two days, as the document I wrote wouldn't load and I lost the chapter (I have done that waaay too many times, and it sucks) and had to rewrite it all.

So it occurred to me that, with a sizeable amount of traffic and a fair few reviews I had never read, I might as well read them, and answer them.

And it turns out they were actually positive. Which is always good.

Anyway, most reviews were posted under the title "Guest", and some asked questions about the plot or other things I didn't want to spoil.

Therefore, I'm going to answer them very vaguely, and not state the question.

So here goes.

Hyakudori.

Thanks. Spent quite a while working on how to subtly hint at it. Good to hear it was well enough received.

Oh yes, I very well may have that happen.

Also, see SalinorTheDrake.

FORD B

Thanks.

Guest puppet guy.

I honestly hadn't thought about it like that. I had a mildly devious plan for her, but that offers a new idea.  
And don't worry, I already have that scene literally written in my head.

Guest video guy

No...why? Do I want to?

Guest armour guy

Okay, for the armour you basically read my mind. The rest was slightly more hit and miss.  
But some of the ideas you came up with were uncannily close to my plans. Good work.

Guest correction guy

Ahh, right, my bad.

Guest shower guy

But then the water feels cold. Besides, it doesn't wake you up then.

Guest Velvet guy

Who is to say she doesn't?  
Maybe she only takes photographs of the new students' weapons because they haven't logged theirs yet?

KX

Fret not. I have an ingenious medical idea that will feature.  
I confess, originally it was bad writing on my part, but now I have a plan  
Do you have an aura?

SalinorTheDrake

(Fiddles scratch) Because it's just so easy when you're e-vil!

Good Imperial Guest

You'll just have to wait and see, heh heh heh...a  
Let's just say I have enough plans to legally qualify as a Mollusk.

Anymore questions or reviews, feel free to leave one.

Now, to actually advance the plot somewhere...


	20. A Mighty Battle

And so the days passed by. Weiss found few complications from going off drugs. Every so often she was asked to report to the medical bay for a psychological checkup and physical checkup, but as I suspected, it was rather unnecessary. She seemed to be getting happier and a lot more happily physical as her body stabilised and began to function normally, and we all noticed an increase in not only fitness, but in aura reserves as her body learnt how to function. In her own words, when I asked her, she told me,

"It's like, or rather it's exactly the result of constantly suffering from significant pain all my life, and now suddenly, all that goes away, and I'm left better then I've ever been."

Classes were interesting. Within the first few weeks of treatment, Weiss' body had fully recovered and was functioning normally, and as we went from class to class, we could often spot a few people staring intently at Weiss. Obviously incredibly confused, and rightly so.

Weiss smells like a Faunus.

But she's a Schnee.

Did she have a boyfriend or partner? Did I smell her right? Am I just imagining things?

More then a few people found reasons to pass close by to us as we walked by, and deeply inhaling. A hard stare by whoever was with Weiss would get them to shut up and back down, although I knew for a fact that the rumour spread, as more and more people found themselves wandering nearby. It wasn't fun, but we could only wait until it blew over. Until then, we made sure Weiss was never alone, by herself.

It only came to a more severe risk during an unfortunate meeting with team CRDL in a hallway, where they were blocking the hall. I had been worried it would turn into a full on fight with he tension, but I had managed to talk him away. Not down, but away. I guess what I had said to him had taken root all that time ago, because he backed his team down more easily then I'd have ever thought. He didn't like it, but he cleared the hallway for us, and kept his team back. It was good to see. Whatever the reason, he was challenging his preconceptions, and that was progress.

Weiss' wings were growing in as well. Slowly, but steadily they had developed into lumps in her back, then bundles of bone and flesh, and then into the beginnings of actual wings. The doctors said that in any other case, she couldn't conceivably expect a full development of her wings, let alone use them. But considering her lifelong physical and mental training, as well as her youth and experience with an awakened aura, she was looking like a full recovery. It was getting to a point where they were distinctly visible under her jacket when Blake had taken her shopping, at places that sold clothing that catered to Faunus and any extra requirements they may have. Skin conditions, allergies, thermal regulation and, fortunately, extra limbs. It made me realise that, whilst a Faunus might have superior senses often, sometimes it wasn't the case, and often it came with other costs for living. A deer Faunus could only wear buttoned shirts, certain lizard Faunus needed proper thermal wear, and couldn't have certain materials. I had spoken briefly to Ozpin about this the next time he had called me up to talk, and he assured me that Beacon was easily able to tailor uniforms to the requirements of individual students. Whenever she wanted, she could easily have her uniform adapted to let her wings have space.

Slowly but surely, more and more people knew that Weiss Schnee was a Faunus. People would treat her differently. Some treated her with indifference, whilst some humans treated her with scorn, as if her existence was some kind of betrayal. In turn, some Faunus treated her the same, as if she was racist for hiding her nature, by implying it was shameful. Others began to sympathise with her. A Faunus bought up as a Schnee could hardly have been a good childhood, and these rational voices were well appreciated. A few took this respect further however, and turned it into adoration. Weiss didn't like the idea of having a fan club, still sensitive despite herself to the whole issue, but there was little we could do, and of all things, there could be worse things then having students devoted to her. We all ignored it, and isolated ourselves, teams RWBY and JNPR. Friendships grew in the pressing isolation, including a few relationships that looked...greater, to me and my shipping mindset.

The whole thing was hard. It was emotionally stressing for all, and meant huge changes, but we adapted, and we overcame. And slowly but surely, people lost interest. It was a trial, but eventually, over a few long months, Weiss was accepted.

And after a seeming age, things returned to normal.

Bar of course, the at that point, two foot sheet of pure white feathers spread over Weiss' back, gently cresting her shoulders.

 **Thud**

Impact behind me. I snapped out of my thoughts and spun. Ruby had dropped a child sized binder onto her table that had shaken the plates.

"Oh boy, dis gon be gud." I said, hearing shifting behind me as Ruby cleared her throat.

"Sisters!" She loudly proclaimed, throwing her arm out, gesturing at her table.

"Friends!" She stated, her other arm swung out to include our table.

"...Weiss."

"Hey!"

"Fore score and seven minutes ago, I had a dream!"

Oh god she said the thing! And I did my best to laugh as quietly as I could, wheezing out the air from my lungs.

"This outta be good." Yang said to Blake, before catching a tossed tomato from Nora.

"A dream that the nine of us would come together as a team, and have the most fun anyone's ever had! Ever!"

"Did you steal my binder!?"

And the Reagan.

"I am not a crook."

Oh god the fingers! My sides!

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about kicking off the Semester with a bang!"

Yang grinned that shit eating grin of hers. "I always kick my semesters off with a Yaaaaannng."

That was a terrible pun, and I felt myself cringe on so many levels. I could hear Nora scrabbling behind me, before an apple flew over me and hit Yang.

"Boo!"

Well, at least someone is standing up to puns.

I turned back. Ren was pulling Nora gently back into her seat.

"Nora."

"But she started it!"

"...Maybe so, but you should not reprociate that much. A tomato would have sufficed. An apple was unnecces..."

He was cut off as his hand blurred from his tray, half successfully warding off the fast thrown green apple to his face. He got between it, but the force of the throw pushed his hand away and it glanced slightly off the side of his cheek.

"Ren. You good?" I asked.

"I'm fine, don't worry."

"That was quite a hard throw," Pyrrha added, "Is your hand okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm used to greater force then an apple." He said with a slight smile.

Nora however, was furious. Not really angry, but almost outraged. She was whispering under her breath. Something about 'her Renny.'

She stood up and reached across for a pie. It looked like some unholy combination of cream and meringue.

"I got it!" She yelled, determination in her eyes as she stood up and wound back.

Ren reacted and tried to stop her, but it was too late, and we watched, almost in slow motion as the pie arced across the divide and straight into Weiss' face.

I saw the shocked expressions of Blake, Yang and Ruby as they shifted away from the motionless standing Weiss, and then whipped round to look at us.

I turned, and beheld an accidental recreation of the three monkeys, and a desperate Nora, trying to shift the blame to a very disappointed Ren.

From there, it began to blur. A sausage darted over my shoulder and struck a mollified Pyrrha, who returned fire with Jaune's sandwich. More sausages flew, and I quickly ducked under the table, and crawled my way out.

People began to shout, food began to fly and all manner of foul liquid and slop fell around me, sending droplets flying with each strike. All I could do was crawl under the wooden table on my stomach. Tables thundered over and trays of food spilled across the floor

By the time I got to the end and stood up, somehow JNPR had piled half the tables and desks into an elaborate pile, from the apex of which, Nora laughed manically.

"I'm Queen of the Castle! I'm Queen of the castle!"

A stomp of wood. A force of four huntresses called to battle against the tyranny of the Dark queen

A lone voice rang out.

"Justice will be swift! Justice will be painful! It. Will. Be. Delicious!" She cried, raising her fist.

"Yeaaah!" Her companions cried.

And so battle was joined.

The dark Queen and her forces opened up with a barrage of Melons that blocked out the sun, but the golden dragon of the huntresses could not be overcome as melon after melon burst under her mighty turkeys. She punched out, and the birds of justice speared forth, catching a foolish knight and sending him reeling. His Spartan comrade had an instant to react in turn to the sudden onslaught of the dark haired assassin. Grace and precision warred with technique and power, and technique and power won, even bringing down the dragon, as she stood proclaiming her own strength.

A blur of crimson death flew across the field of battle, too fast for the Spartan to counter and hit the mighty warrior with the force of a battering ram, throwing her back. The Monk and the Valkyrie Queen charged forth to take revenge for their fallen comrade, but the Crimson death darted away, leaving behind the Dancer.

The Dancer threw down a powerful spell to turn the ground to ice, and the Monk slipped and crashed into a stack of tables. The Valkyrie however was undeterred, and with a last melon and a pole, fashioned herself a mighty warhammer, which she bought down with great force upon the crimson death, who had taken the blow to save the dancer, who claimed a fine swordfish to do battle with.

It would be for naught, and with a mighty swing that caused the air to ripple and pick up heavy tables with its passing, she smote the Dancer and sent her flying through the air, crashing through roof struts and crushing a stone pillar a good two metres wide into rubble. She was saved only by the Crimson death, who darted across to save her from being crushed, and as she held the broken form of the Dancer in her arms, she let out a long keening wail of lament.

Faced with no other choice, the Golden dragon charged forward again, taking up her mighty turkeys. The monk in turn took up two leaks and answered the Dragons challange. And so they did clash, and so did the monk accidentally look up the Dragons skirt in the process. Technique warred with might and as with before, might won, punching the monk into the air. The monk tried one last trick by hurling the Leeks, but the Dragon evaded and jumped up to him and with the force of a dying sun, hurled him into the ground.

The Dragon landed in time to be assailed by the Valkyrie Queen and her mighty hammer. The Dragon evaded the heavy blows, but in the end, the blood of a Dragon runs hot. Both came together to exchange their mightiest blows, and the Queen won, sundering her hammer and sending the Dragon through the high roof.

The Ninja, unnoticed, whirled a chain link of sausages and whipped it out, striking the Queen back to the walls of her keep. Her impact crumpled a vending machine and she rolled with the impact, hurling carbonated grenades at the dark haired ninja.

The Spartan, having recovered herself, placed her hand against the floor, and levitated all the cans of soda, for her mastery of battle had led her to the mastery of all things metal in turn, and the swarm she directed was legion. The Ninja flipped and dodged, but dodging was impossible without room to dodge to, and she was caught in the tide and hurled back, crashing with enough force that plates were hurled from the ground at her impact.

Her heart hardened by the fall of her beloved comrades, the Crimson Death stood, braced a foot, and ran.

She ran at a speed that was impossible for mortal men to achieve, and her passing tore the air and carried all that passed through it with her in a tornado of force. Plates, soda cans, bread, all flew after her in numbers that gave meaning to the word 'legion'.

There was nothing any of the Queens minions could do to stop it. She ran faster, faster, faster then perception, faster then the world could percieve, faster then space and faster then time. Reality warped at her passage and before anyone could react, she had passed her foe, and the storm of metal, ceramics and foodstuffs hit them like a fist from a wrathful god.

She stopped, and the wall behind her cracked from the power exerted, before the prostrate bodies of the Queen and her minions slammed into the wall in turn. The crimson death darted out of the way as the storm she had made, like some titanic beast, fell upon her foes.

It was brutal, extreme, and when it was over, there was nothing recognisable of the four villains as they slowly slid off the wall, slumping to the floor like ragdolls.

"I love these guys." Sun Wukong said, completely uncaring. Neptune however had caught a grape soda can, which had coated him in thick purple liquid, and was looking decidedly un-loving of these guys. In fact, he looked downright pissed.

Although, considerably less so then the Cruel Matria-Glynda Goodwitch who had just stormed in.

She deflected a wave of assorted plates of salad and with a wave of her riding crop, which made me think rather inappropriate things, she repaired the entire hall. Tables flew back into their places, plates repaired themselves and stains vanished from the walls.

And as the last table slotted in, she pushed up her spectacles.

"Children, please. Do not, play with your food."

Both teams were covered in stains and looked decidedly panicked to be caught out. Pyrrha looked horrified, as did Jaune. Weiss, Ren and Ruby seemed traumatised. Nora didn't give a fuck at all.

And Yang, for her part, broke through the ceiling and through a table. That triggered a round of giggles from everyone.

Miss Goodwitch was fuming, but Ozpin was there, and defused her. I couldn't hear what they said, but I knew it word for word.

"But right now, they're still children, so why not let them play the part."

He turned and walked away, and I watched his lips move.

"After all, it isn't a role they'll have forever."

And he should know that most. He's spent longer then most being an adult, and every childhood he had must have been hijacked pretty badly by thousands of years of knowledge. He has more reason then most to understand wanting to let children be children as long as they can be.

I knew a bit of what he meant. That was some heavy stuff.

Ahh well, no reason why I shouldn't also play that part myself then. I knew better then him that wouldn't last forever.

I pushed off the pillar and wandered over to the others, a smile on my face.


	21. A Passage of Time

It had been a fair few days now, and my time had been mostly taken up with planning.

I still saw the others, but unfortunately, with their team preparations for the big competition, my own assorted projects, and no end of Joker grade plotting, our time had been limited.

Team CMEN, Criminal, Cognomen, whichever, had been busy as well.

I had managed to intercept Mercury in his test against sparring with Pyrrha. My plan had been to stop him discovering her semblance, but he questioned me as soon as we entered to change. I told him I recognised him as a martial artist, something I knew a little of myself.

He smiled, and said to not worry. He was going to in fact choose me.

A minor oversight on my part, but it made me feel good that I had been included. Granted, I had no real semblance to use, but I had the exoskeleton of the suit. Not so flexable as his Taequando, or Capoera, or whichever analogue he used, but enough to hold my own, for a bit.

He still threw me out of the ring with a four kick chain, ending with a flying backwards uppercut, sending me from the ring, into the crowd. Showy, but good, and I made a show that I wasn't upset.

Unfortunately, lacking in observation, he just resorted to straight asking me about my semblance.

"Did you even use it? What is it?"

"Oh? It's ... uhh ... kinda like a heightened observation. Nothing physical, but a constant awareness."

"Ohh? How does it work?" He seemed intrigued, stepping closer.

"For example, looking at you now, the rough momentum and acceleration you have in your waist shows me that you do martial arts, as your core is fluid, elastic, but tight. But the same cues in your legs also tell me you lost them. Sometime in your youth?"

I could feel him halt.

"Now, you're very fluid, so it's a surgical procedure. No wait time in between to loose nerve familiarity. An injury perhaps?"

He wasn't moving.

"Now, you're confident. Beyond martial skill confident. That implies toughness, implying experience with pain. Life outside the cities perhaps? Or no family? Wait, no, you're well developed. You had a family, but not a good one?"

"Enough."

I couldn't see his face. But he looked murderous by shoulders alone.

"I know your pain, my overly painful kicking friend."

"Yea... you don't."

"Well, maybe not your specific pain, but I know pain none the less. Uncaring family, no friends, village destroyed by grimm attack, sole survivor. Wandered until I came here?"

He didn't say anything. I pushed him too far.

"Well. If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. Because of my... talent, I'm actually sworn to patient confidentiality."

"Shut up man. I don't care."

"Well I do. Come see me, please."

He turned, and walked out. When I left, he wasn't in the class.

The next day, he duelled Pyrrha, with predictable results.

And so the days went by. I met up with Mercury a few times. I gave Neo a chocolate bar, and gave her a head pat. Couldn't tell if she was happy or wanted to remove my hand. Didn't care. Apologised for what was going to happen to her. Got her confused, but I had a plan.

Even managed to meet up with Emerald a little. Discussed her a little bit. She let off a fair bit of steam. I guess working for Cinder, and subsequently Salem, can't be the most comfortable of jobs, but it's that or the street. Granted, she stole the helmet HUD components, and my scroll, from out of my pockets, but I followed her and got them back easily enough. It's like she didn't even want them.

One day. I will understand women.

But it is not this day.

And before I knew it, the dance had come up. I asked a few people. Emerald, Neo, Cinder, and some other people. Got turned down by them all though. Didn't want to risk taking someone from RWBY, and definitely wasn't taking Pyrrha. Seeing Jaune in a dress did in fact, make it all worth it.

Plan, drunken revelry, put into place.

I slipped out, drained half a glass of punch, nabbed two half-used cases of beer and proceeded to the CCTV tower. I flashed the credentials Ozpin gave me for the night, and was let up, when I proved I was sober, where I promptly disconnected all the main room terminals from the actual system, and redirected them into a false database.

I then lay on the floor, in a wildly dramatic fashion, with bottles strewn around me, eyes closed.

It took ten more minutes for the elevator doors to ding open, and for the sounds of clacking heels to enter. I heard them come closer, and dampen, stopping by me. I regretted everything, but she passed by me, and got into a terminal, before I heard the distinct sound of shifty activities, before the elevator door dinged open, to the complaints about lady stilts.

Ruby, if you didn't want high heels, don't wear high heels.

But yeah, confrontation happened, rounds were loosed, I then decided to get up, with a fake pounding headache, and completely miss out on doing something, but get to look stupid when Ironwood came in.

Obviously, couldn't go back to the dance, but I never liked them much.

The next day was fun. Both Ruby and I got called to the meeting about the break in. The predicted results happened, and Ruby was sent away.

The Elevator doors clanged shut, before Ironwood turned to me.

"And you. I'm not sure to be amazed at your slovenly conduct, or that despite your loss of control, you had managed to make it up to the top of the CCTV. Do you have anything to day for yourself young man?"

I stood, back straight, at an easy attention, and spoke "Yes, sir." Before turning to Ozpin.

"It was like I told you. Cinder Fall. Virus in the mainframe."

"I assume it isn't in the mainframe then?"

"I intend to release it, after General Ironwood puts firewalls on the Drone army's core systems and target recognition."

"I see. Pray tell. Why release it."

"So that she can still make her speech, so only at the final moment does she know she's ben trapped. If she can't, she'll bolt, and this will all be for nothing."

"I approve. We shall do just that."

"What? Ozpin. Who is this student?" The General burst.

"This is the one I mentioned briefly. He knows a lot of things."

"Am I allowed to know a little bit more then that?" Ironwood persisted.

"I'm afraid, I cannot risk it." Ozpin said, uncaring.

"It's nothing special anyway," I added, "just a mixture of ability and circumstance. The real answer is more plain stupid, then dangerous."

Credit to him, he just sighed, and rubbed his face.

"Well, can you at least give me reason, for why I should tamper with a perfectly functional control system?"

"Of course. Cinder, the anarchist leader, will use an associate to hack into the entire army, and reverse the protocols, attacking civilians and huntsman. If the attack is just grimm, we're fine, the army can handle it. If it's grimm, with the army attacking us, then Vale falls. I also want you to on the day, isolate all the airships and command vehicles from the army drones."

"But if we do that, we'll loose a massive amount of control ability."

"True, but they will still stay on our side."

"Enough," Ozpin said, "Jason, you are permitted to leave."

"Thank you sir."

Fun times awaited, it seemed.

Next day, the field trips were announced. Ozpin made his speech, hearts were stirred, and I realised I should have thought of a better name then Jason. Jason isn't a colour. I managed to catch him after his speech, and request that I conveniently abstain from a mission, but instead be given command of a few units of Ironwoods army. He smiled, and approved it, when he saw me copious winking, before he caught sight of a certain team trying to get into a restricted assignment.

He turned to me, I turned to him.

He shrugged, I shrugged.

He turned in his heels and creeped over. I decided to sit back and watch, as Ozpin made them sweat, but let them go.

He gestured for me to follow him, and I did.

"Let me guess. Those four are going to, find this anarchist hideout, kickstart an attack, which will enter under the city by some means, coming up in an area, which you will just happen to be in, alongside an army division?"

"Why Ozpin? However did you guess?" I said, playing it up.

He laughed. "I've been around a while. I notice these kinds of things. Did you approve of my speech?"

"Both of them, yes. The one delivered to the full hall was captivating and succinct, with the right emotive wording, and a good balance of pace and inflection to add tone."

"And the other one?"

"I can't wait to see their reaction, when they find out this rough, grizzled huntsman image you built up turns out to be Professor Oobleck."

"You would do well to remember though, that whilst the Professor is an academic, he is also a well capable huntsman himself."

"Oh don't worry, I know all too well. But they don't. Still, it was a revelation when I worked out what he actually drinks."

"Oh? Do tell. I had always assumed it was coffee."

"Yes. But his thermos transforms into a flamethrower, of sorts."

"Yes."

"But there isn't enough space for both drinking fluid, and fuel, for the amount of times he uses it in both senses."

"Mmmm hmmm."

"So they have to be the same fluid. And the only drinking fluid I know that is so flammable, are high alcohol ones, like vodka, or whisky."

"Ha!" He burst, and actually chuckled honestly. "That was something I had not considered. Although I do not believe Professor Oobleck drinks such drinks. It is more likely that it is dust-infused coffee."

He was silent for a bit.

"Although, I confess, I do not know myself what it is in his thermos. Just please. Refrain from mentioning this to Glynda. She might not find such humour, so entertaining."

"Of course."

I broke off, and headed to the forge.

I had three days. Three days to assemble my armour, test it, and find the breech site.

Fun times ahead.


End file.
